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lisasmuts · 16 days ago

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Driven to Desire

Roséanne Park x Male Reader

Tags: public sex, lots of squirting, deepthroating, facial, spanking, rough sex, pussy eating, lots of blowjob

2895 word

Have you ever thought about dating a big superstar like Roséanne Park from Blackpink? That's funny, because you actually are.

In the middle of the night, after you picked her up from a strange party that she had with her friends. You really didn't have anything inside your mind, just driving around to get home quickly and get some rest because of a busy day you had today. But for rosé, she had different mind. she really became a little filthy after went to that strange party.

You and rosé are not talking to with each other in the car, you really busy driving and her?, she just minding her own world. As you trying to focus on the road you can feel her hand starts to rub your thigh. You flinch slightly, glancing at her without losing focus. "What are you doing, babe?." You ask her as she keep rubbing her hand on your thigh. "Nothing, i'm just bored" She explains as she moves to rub your inner thigh. "Fuck" you moan as you keep trying to focus on the road. You can see that she's smiling while you moaned. You start to feel hard as her hand keep rubbing your inner thigh. She rubs your bulge as you once again trying to focus on the road. "Already this hard, huh?" She's smiling as she keeps rubbing your bulge. "You're filthy whore. Can't you just wait until we get home?." You exclaim while she's unbuckling your belt. "You don't know how horny I am at that party, daddy." She lets out her mischievous grin as she frees your big hard cock from your pants. "I really miss this big dick." She says as she moves her hand on your shaft. "Shit." You can't help anymore when you feel her mouth lick your tip. "Just wait home, i can't drive when you're like this." She just ignores you and bobbing her head on your cock. Her hands start to touch your balls slurps your precum. "Then stop the car, daddy. Let's do it right here." She strokes your shaft fast until you really can't help it anymore.

You start to enjoy this when you hit the red light. You place your hand on her head as you face fucking her. She gags until her makeup gets messy. "You're fucking bitch. Can't wait until we get home, huh?." You keep fucking her head until the red light turns green. She's panting as she looks at you while her hands stroking your shaft. "I really miss this cock, daddy." She licks your balls while her hands keep stroking your shaft.

You pull over and move to kiss rosé on the mouth. The passionate kiss makes you go feral. She keeps stroking your shaft while you two kissing. "Let's get to the backseats." You two go out and get into the backseats. You right away kiss her, then roam her body. She moans on your ear when you move to kiss her earlobe. "You're such a slut." She shivers down to her spine and looks at you in the eye. "I'm your slut, daddy. Please, make me cum. I can't wait anymore." You step outside the car and prepare to eat her. She takes off her pants, shows you her wet pussy. "Fuck, this juicy pussy." You drooling as you keep looking at her dripping pussy.

You begin to kiss her inner thigh, teasing her as she keeps moaning while grumble. "Daddy, just eat me already. You know how wet i am for you, daddy?. You know that i've been waiting for thi-AAHHH." You silence her by dive your mouth into her pussy. You can feel her juices starts to roaming in your mouth. You lick her clit and her juices slowly come more. You eat her deeper, then your thumb moves in slow circles against her clit. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, SHIT, I'M GONNA CUM." She glances at u with her eyes fluttering close, before slowly opening again. You move faster and can feel her juices are ready to explode. "SHITTTTTT, DADDY." She squirts while rolls her eyes. Without hesitation, you drink all of her squirts. "Good girl." You kiss her with your mouth still wet by her juices. "How's it taste?." You stare at her with lust on your eyes. "Fucking good, daddy. Please, make me cum more." She kisses you with passionate, tasting her own release.

You take your position outside the car, she lays down spreading her wet, juicy pussy. You slap her pussy with your tip and tease her by rubbing your shaft on hers. "Fuck me, daddy." She looks at you desperately while biting her lips. She's so fucking hot at this moment. You can't help it and shove your cock inside her tight, juicy pussy. "FUCK." She screams, her eyes close and her mouth is wide open. "You're so tight." You groan, feeling your big, thick, cock inside her tight pussy.

She starts moving her hips back and forth slowly, trying to adjust your big cock inside her pussy. You also move slowly, make her moan even loudly. “Shit, daddy.” You kiss her while quickening your pace, making her moan between kisses, breathless and needy. You fuck her in passionate missionary. Her legs are on your shoulder, making it even deep in her pussy. You can feel how needy and horny she is, the way her moans are so loud tonight, and how she moves her hips back and forth, make you go crazy with it.

She moans so loud when you hit her in the cervix, she really loves it when you hit her there. Your car rock hard with each motion, the windows fogging up as her moans fill the air. You muffle her moans with other kisses on the mouth, as you keep rocking her hard. Each movements feel so heavenly. Your tongue moves to her hard nipple, licking it like a baby craving her mom’s milk. Your licks shiver her spine down. Makes you can feel a hard fountain would sink you down. You help her closeness by rubbing her clit fast while you still fuck her hard. “YES, YES, FUCK I’M GONNA CUM.” She loudly moans to your ears. You pull out to see her squirting once again as you move to lick her pussy and taste her tasty release. You can hear her moans so loud when you eating her once again.

Her moans are music to your ears, so you don’t mind when she gets loud. But not everyone feels the same. People passing by start throwing side eyes, disgust written all over their faces. Still, you don’t care, until someone actually walks up to your car. “Get a room, bro. What the fuck is this?” he snaps, glaring at you through the fogged-up window. Rosé quickly ducks down, hiding herself, cheeks flushed red. You're still standing there, your cock rock hard and aching to ruin her all over again. “Get the fuck outta here, you gross freaks,” he scoffs. You shoot him a cold look before scrambling into the driver’s seat, your hand gripping the wheel. Without another word, you start the engine and speed off, leaving him behind as his curses fade into the distance.

“That was embarrassing,” you mutter, cheeks burning as you glance at the rearview mirror. She meets your gaze through the mirror, her mouth curling into a filthy little smirk. “Well, it is,” she purrs. “But it makes me want you more, daddy.” Her lust darkened eyes say it all, and before you can react, she spreads her legs wide, revealing her dripping pussy. You can’t take it anymore. You tear your eyes away from her and back to the road, your mind spinning. You scan the streets, searching for somewhere quiet, somewhere no one will interrupt your filthy little fun again.

You pull over at an abandoned bus stop secluded, quiet, the perfect place to enjoy your delicious little meal. Without wasting a second, you jump out of the car and slip into the backseat, where she’s already waiting. You crash your lips against hers, tugging her onto your lap. With your cock still rock hard, she places her hands over it, stroking you slowly teasing. Your tongue slides into her mouth, devouring her deeply as your hands roam down to her ass, squeezing, rubbing, and giving it a firm slap. She moans against your lips, breath hitching, but you don’t stop. You kiss her harder, hungrier, as your hands keep working her body like she’s all yours to ruin.

After that heated kiss, she keeps stroking your thick, aching cock, her eyes locked on yours dark, beautiful, and dripping with lust. Her stare says it all. She wants more. She needs more. “Ride me. Show me just how bad you want this cock,” you growl, your voice low and hungry.

The words make her shiver, thighs clenching at the thought of bouncing on you. But she’s got something else in mind. She drops to her knees between your legs, eyes full of lust, and wraps her beautiful lips around your throbbing cock. She starts slow deliberate sucking you in inch by inch, driving you absolutely feral. Her head bobs up and down, tongue swirling as she sucks, while her free hand reaches to gently play with your balls. You're completely undone, head resting back against the seat, letting her take full control. She doesn’t stop eyes locked on yours as she keeps sucking you deeper.

You place your hand on the back of her head, guiding her down, making her choke on your cock. The sound of her gagging only makes it hotter. She pulls off for a moment to suck on your balls, her hand still stroking your thick shaft slowly, teasing you just right. "You keep sucking my balls like that, baby, and I swear you’ll make me cum," you growl, running your fingers through her hair, trying to make her stop. But with a wet plop, she pulls away, a string of spit still connecting her lips to you. "Not before I ride this big cock, daddy." She grins wickedly, eyes burning with want as she climbs onto your lap.

She places her hand on your cock, guiding it to her aching heat pussy. She’s already soaked, making it easy to slide into her tight, warm pussy. She starts riding your cock slowly, easing herself down until it fits perfectly inside. You grip her waist, helping her move as her pace begins to quicken. The car gently rocks with every bounce, following her rhythm. Her moans grow louder, echoing inside the confined space, and her body glistens with sweat. Strands of her messy hair stick to her flushed face, her mouth parted, lost in pleasure. She looks like a vision wild, breathless, and utterly divine.

She kisses you deeply, her hands gliding over your chest as if trying to catch her breath taking a moment of rest before riding you again. Sweat trickles from her forehead, some of it falling onto your skin, warm and electric. Her fingers curl around your neck, grounding herself as her plush, juicy lips move against yours with delicious hunger.

The softness of her mouth drives you insane, and without thinking, your hips thrust upward, meeting her body with a newfound urgency. She lets out a breathy moan, grinding into you as she pulls away from the kiss, eyes dark and full of need. And then she begins to bounce again, matching your rhythm, chasing that high with you in perfect sync.

Once she begins to tremble beneath you, you pull out just to tease her, “FUCK, FUCK,’ her moans loud in desperation. She turns to look at you with a mix of frustration and desire written across her face. "Why did you pull out, daddy?" she pouts, breathless. You don’t answer. Instead, you guide her to all fours in the backseat. With slow, deliberate movements, you push back in, drawing a gasp from her lips. “You wanted more, didn’t you?” you murmur against her ear. “FUCK, FUCK, YES, I WANT MORE. FUCK ME HARDER, DADDY.”

Your rhythm grows wilder, raw, instinctual. She meets each thrust eagerly, fingers digging into the seat, holding on for dear life. The leather creaks beneath her grip, and her knuckles turn white as she loses herself in the moment.

You spank her juicy ass, each slap echoing inside the car as your rhythm grows rougher. You can see her pussy is getting red by how hard you fuck her. Her body trembles beneath your touch, her back arching beautifully while your hips drive into her, relentless and wild. Her soft moans grow louder, filling the space like a siren’s song, driving you to push deeper, harder.

The windows fog, the car shakes with every thrust like it might give out beneath the storm you’ve created. Her breath hitches when your hand lands again, but there’s no pain in her sounds only pleasure, only need. Her fingers dig into the seat, knuckles pale, body soaked with sweat and want. She’s not scared. She’s not overwhelmed. She’s ecstatic completely lost in the feeling of being taken, of being desired, over and over again.

You’re losing yourself in the moment, your rhythm turning frantic as your body moves in perfect sync with hers. You lean in, pressing soft kisses along her spine, tasting the salt of her skin, hearing the intoxicating sound of skin meeting skin echoing through the car. Your hands explore her body tracing the curve of her waist, then down to the soft warmth between her thighs. You feel her tremble under your touch, her breath catching as you gently circle her sensitive spot.

She’s close, you can feel it in the way she tightens around you, in the way her fingers claw at the seat, in the way her moans crack through the heavy air like thunder. You move faster, deeper driven by the sounds she makes, by the heat between you, by the way she surrenders completely to you. Her body begins to shake, her cries reaching a crescendo that fills the car with something raw and beautiful. You watch her come undone, her release leaving her breathless and glowing, her skin flushed, her body trembling in your hands. “FUCK, I’M CUMMING. I’M CUMMING, AHHHHH.” She squirts so hard and makes your dick got pull out. Her squirts make your backseat goes wet, but it’s so hot to having her squirts like this.

Watching her reach the peak of pleasure, a fierce fire ignites within you, urging your hand to move faster, more deliberate. Your breath hitches as you whisper, “I’m gonna cum” The tension between you both thickens, electric and undeniable. She slowly turns her face toward you, eyes half-lidded with hunger and mischief, a sultry flicker of her tongue teasing your senses. Her expression, both innocent and wildly tempting, makes your heart race and your restraint crumble.

Guiding yourself toward her parted lips, you begin to release wave after wave of warmth, each pulse carrying the intensity of your desire. The creamy cascade paints her skin like liquid silk dripping down her cheeks, tracing the curve of her jaw, glossing over her lashes, and wetting the strands of her hair. Her beauty, illuminated by your touch, is breathtaking raw, vulnerable, and fiercely alive. She wears the evidence of your passion like a badge of honor, and in that moment, you both exist only for each other, caught in the rapture of your shared abandon.

She licks the remnants of your love with slow, graceful reverence like a secret ritual only meant for two. A soft smile forms on your lips as you lean in and kiss her deeply, your mouths speaking the unspoken, tender and slow. “Thank you, daddy,” she whispers, her eyes gleaming with mischief and affection. You answer her not with words, but with another kiss firm and lingering one that tastes like both passion and goodbye. You both begin to dress, clothes slipping back over flushed skin, hearts still echoing the rhythm you’d just shared. You return to the front seat, leaving her alone at the backseat.

This moment etched in the dim haze of your car’s quiet aftermath feels like a stolen dream. She lies there, flushed and glowing, her breath still heavy from the high only you could give her. Her lips curl into a soft, exhausted smile, and you swear she looks like a painting wild, divine, and wholly yours.

You watch her from the front seat as you fix your clothes, stealing one last glance at the girl the world calls untouchable. But here, with you, she’s something else entirely. Not the adored idol on stages lit by a thousand lights but the secret that belongs only to you. The one who moans your name like a hymn, who trembles beneath your touch, and lets you unravel her piece by piece.

Her fans will never know the truth behind her sweetness, the fire behind her eyes. They’ll never hear how she begs under her breath, how she surrenders everything to you, willingly, eagerly. To them, she’s a goddess.

To you, she’s your hidden sin.

And as the night stretches on and the silence grows tender, one thing becomes clear

she’s not just a fantasy. She’s the melody your body knows by heart.

a/n: Hi!!, this is my first smut. Please be nice to me 🫠🫠. You guys can call me Matt. Sorry for the bad english, thoo. But, i hope you guys enjoy this little smut, hahaha. Have a good day!!

#blackpink #blackpink smut #kpop smut #idol smut #kpop #blackpink rose smuts #blackpink rose #rose x male reader #rose smut #blackpink rosie #rosie blackpink #rosie smut

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lisasmuts · 1 month ago

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IN HER WARMTH.

Lisa Manoban x male reader.

7878 words.

(One last time)

As my fingers trace along your cheek, I feel an unusual warmth radiating from your skin. At first, I’m lost in the playfulness of our moment, giggling as you try to catch my thumb between your teeth. When you finally succeed in your little game, my laughter fills the company hallway, but it quickly fades as my palm presses more firmly against your face. The heat beneath my touch is concerning – too warm for normal. My eyebrows furrow with worry as I place my other hand on your forehead, confirming what I suspected.

“y/n, you’re burning up!” I exclaim, my voice shifting from playful to concerned in an instant. My eyes search yours, noticing now the light glassiness I hadn’t seen before. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? You shouldn’t have come all this way if you’re not feeling well.”

I quickly set the beautiful roses aside on a nearby table and take your hand, leading you away from the busy entrance area. My grip is gentle but insistent as I guide you toward one of the private lounges used for artists breaks. The worry is evident in my steps – quick and purposeful – while I occasionally glance back at you to make sure you’re okay. Once inside the quiet room with its comfortable couches and dim lighting. I gently push you to sit down.

“Stay here,” I instruct firmly, my thai accent becoming more pronounced with concern. “I’m going to get you some water and medicine.” Before leaving, I press my lips to your forehead in a tender gesture that’s half-kiss, half-temperature check. My hand lingers on your shoulder, squeezing it gently. “You came all this way to surprise me when you should be in bed resting. You’re impossible, you know that?” Despite my scolding words, there’s undeniable affection in my voice, touched by your dedication even while unwell.

Coming back with a glass of water and some pills in my hand, I find you sitting exactly where I left you, though your posture has changed to something more defiant. As I approach, I can see the stubborn set of your jaw, reminding me of a child about to throw a tantrum. I set beside you on the couch, my thigh pressing against yours as I hold out the medicine.

“Here, take these. They’ll bring your fever down.” I say softly, but you immediately turn your face away, lips pursed in refusal. The childish gesture makes me sigh, though I cant help but find it endearing despite my concern.

“y/n, please. You need to take the medicine to feel better,” I insist, my voice firmer now but still laced with affection. When you continue to resist, complaining about the bitter taste, I narrow my eyes and adopt a more authoritative tone.

“Yaaa! Don’t be such a baby. Open your mouth right now.” I command, holding the pills closer to your lips. My free hand gently but firmly cups your chin, turning your face toward mine. “If you take them now, I promise I’ll make it worth your while later when you’re feeling better.”

After some more coaxing and gentle scolding, you finally relent and swallow the pills with water. The movement they’re down, your face scrunches up dramatically and you start fake crying, declaring that the medicine is too bitter and that our friendship is now over. The exaggerated display makes me laugh despite myself, your pouting expression so adorable that I can’t maintain my stern demeanor.

“Oh, so I am bad now?” I tease, cupping your face between my hands, thumb gently tracing your warm cheeks before one moves to your lower lip. The softness there distracts me momentarily, my eyes lingering on your mouth. “The person who traveled all this way with a fever isn’t bad, but I am for making sure he takes medicine? That makes perfect sense.”

When you suddenly nip at my thumb in playful retaliation, I giggle, the sound echoing in the quiet room. The childish gesture combined with your pouty expression melts my heart completely. I lean forward and place a gentle kiss on your forehead, lingering there to feel your temperature again.

“You’re still too warm,” I murmur against your skin, pulling back reluctantly. “As much as I want to show you what I’ve been working on, you need to rest. I’m calling you a cab to take you home.”

Taking out my phone, I quickly book a ride, my fingers moving efficiently across the screen while occasionally glancing up to make sure you’re not planning another rebellion. Once confirmed, I put my phone away an take your hands in mine, squeezing them gently.

“The cab will be here in five minutes. Go home and get some proper rest, okay? I’ll come over as soon as I finish here,” I promise, my eyes soft with concern and affection. “And don’t you dare try to say we’re not friends anymore. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not, fever boy.”

Stepping into our apartment, I immediately kick off my heels by the door, feeling the tension of the day melt away at the thought of seeing you resting peacefully. The lights are dimmed but not completely off, creating a warm ambiance throughout our home. I tiptoe toward the bedroom, expecting to find you bundled under the covers, hopefully with your fever broken. When I push open the door and find the bed empty, perfectly made as if untouched, my heart drops and irritation quickly replaces my concern.

“Ya! Y/n!” I call out, my voice echoing through the apartment as I storm back into the hallway. My hands find their way to my hips as I continue searching. “I told you to rest! Where are you hiding? I swear if you're playing games while you're sick...” My voice trails off as I check the living room, finding it equally empty. The bathroom door stands open, no sign of you there either. With each empty room, my frustration grows, but beneath it lies genuine worry. What if your fever got worse and you had to go to the hospital? What if you collapsed somewhere in the apartment?

Just as my imagination begins spiraling toward worst-case scenarios, a delicious aroma wafts through the air, guiding me toward the kitchen. The gentle sizzling sound and the unmistakable smell of tom yum soup – my favorite dish from home – stops me in my tracks. Rounding the corner, I find you standing at the stove, your back to me, carefully stirring a pot while checking a recipe on your phone. For a moment, I'm frozen between relief and exasperation, watching as you, still clearly feverish with slightly flushed cheeks, prepare a meal instead of resting as instructed.

“What do you think you're doing?”

I demand, my voice softer than intended as emotion catches in my throat. You turn, startled by my sudden appearance, a sheepish smile spreading across your face. The kitchen counter is covered with ingredients – lemongrass, galangal, lime leaves, all the authentic components of proper tom yum. Despite my determination to be stern, the sight of you cooking my favorite Thai dish while sick melts my resolve.

“You're supposed to be in bed recovering, not standing here cooking! How is your fever? Have you taken more medicine?”

I move toward you, reaching up to press my palm against your forehead, which still feels warm but not as burning as before. My eyes narrow as I assess your condition, but I can't help noticing the effort you've put into this surprise – the carefully chopped herbs, the perfectly simmering broth, even my favorite jasmine rice cooking in the rice cooker. You've recreated a taste of home for me after my long day, despite your illness. I bite my lip, fighting the smile threatening to break through my concerned expression.

“You're impossible, you know that? Completely impossible. I tell you to rest, and instead you're here making tom yum from scratch? How am I supposed to stay mad at you when you do things like this?”

My fingers gently brush a strand of hair from your forehead, my touch lingering as my pretend anger dissolves completely, replaced by a warmth that has nothing to do with your fever.

My eyes widen at your enthusiastic greeting, the way you stretch out my name making it impossible to maintain my stern expression. Despite my best efforts to look disapproving, a smile tugs at the corners of my mouth as I watch you excitedly stirring the pot of tom yum soup. The kitchen is filled with aromatic steam, the spicy-sour scent of lemongrass and lime leaves creating a little piece of Thailand right here in our apartment.

“Screaming my name with all those extra 'a's isn't going to get you out of trouble,”

I say, trying to sound firm but failing miserably as affection seeps into my voice. I move closer, peering into the pot where the soup bubbles with perfect red-orange hue, shrimp floating among the mushrooms and herbs.

“And using Japanese greetings won't work either, you know. 'Okaeri' is what you say to welcome someone home, not what you scream when you're supposed to be resting in bed.”

Despite my scolding words, I can't help but slide my arms around your waist from behind, resting my cheek against your back. I can feel the slight heat of your fever through your t-shirt, reminding me that you should be recovering, not cooking. Yet the gesture is so thoughtful it makes my heart swell. My fingers gently tap your stomach in playful reprimand.

“You're still warm,” I murmur, concern evident in my voice as I release you and move to your side, reaching up to touch your forehead again.

“Did the medicine help at all? And don't think I don't notice how you're avoiding my question about why you're not in bed. Making my favorite food is sweet, but not if you collapse face-first into the soup, Y/n.”

I take the wooden spoon from your hand, gently nudging you aside to take over the stirring. My movements are practiced and confident, a reminder of countless times I've prepared this dish in my mother's kitchen back in Thailand. The familiar motions center me after a long day of recording and meetings, though my eyes keep darting back to you, monitoring for any signs that your condition might be worsening.

“Sit down before you fall down. I appreciate this so much, but I can finish cooking. You've already done the hard part with all the prep work. Now it's my turn to take care of you, okay?”

My hands find my hips as I stare at you in disbelief, your enthusiastic questions about the surprise completely missing my point about your health. The steam from the tom yum rises between us, the spicy aroma filling the kitchen as I shake my head at your childlike excitement despite your obvious fever. Your cheeks are still flushed, and I can see the slight glassiness in your eyes that tells me you're pushing yourself too hard.

“What surprise? What surprise?”

I echo, my voice rising slightly with exasperation.

“Ya! I'm standing here worried about your fever, and you're just bragging about cooking? Y/n, look at you—you can barely stand straight and you're still trying to impress me instead of taking care of yourself.”

Despite my scolding, my expression softens as I take in the effort you've made—the perfectly chopped ingredients, the authentic spices you must have gone out to find specially, knowing how much I miss the tastes of home. I sigh deeply, unable to maintain my stern facade when faced with such a thoughtful gesture. Moving closer, I gently place my palm against your forehead again, confirming that your fever hasn't broken completely.

"The soup looks amazing,"

I admit finally, my voice quieter now as I brush my thumb across your warm cheek.

"And it smells exactly like my mom's recipe. But you know what would make me even happier than coming home to my favorite food? Coming home to find my boyfriend actually following doctor's orders and resting."

I turn back to the stove, giving the soup a careful stir before replacing the lid.

"This needs about ten more minutes. Which is exactly how long you have to go wash up and get into comfortable clothes before dinner. No arguments, or I'll carry you to bed myself and you'll miss out on tasting your own creation."

I gesture toward the bedroom with the wooden spoon, droplets of the fragrant broth splattering onto the counter. My expression is a mixture of gratitude and concern, the love I feel for you evident in the way my eyes linger on your face, taking in every detail as if memorizing you. The long day at the studio fades away completely in your presence, even as I worry about your health.

Coming back to our bedroom with a tray carefully balanced in my hands, I find you propped up against the headboard, looking slightly less feverish but still clearly unwell. The room is dimly lit by the bedside lamp, casting a warm glow over your face as I approach. On the tray, I've arranged everything meticulously – two steaming bowls of tom yum soup, a plate of jasmine rice, a glass of water, your medicine, and even a small vase with a single flower I picked from our balcony garden. My face softens at the sight of you waiting for me, your eyes lighting up as I enter the room.

"I told you I wouldn't be long,"

I say softly, setting the tray down on the bedside table before sitting on the edge of the bed next to you. My hand automatically reaches for your forehead, checking your temperature with practiced concern.

"Still warm, but better than before. The medicine must be working a little."

I arrange the pillows behind you more comfortably, my movements gentle and attentive. The scent of lemongrass and lime from the soup fills our bedroom, creating a cozy atmosphere despite the circumstances. As I settle beside you on the bed, I carefully place a napkin over your chest, treating you like a child in a way that's both teasing and genuinely caring. My fingers linger against your skin, the touch conveying more than my words could – worry mixed with affection, irritation softened by love.

"You know, most people would just order delivery if they wanted to surprise their girlfriend with dinner,"

I tease, picking up a spoon and dipping it into your bowl of soup.

"But not my Y/n. No, you had to make authentic tom yum from scratch while running a fever."

I blow gently on the spoonful of soup before bringing it to your lips, my other hand cupped beneath to catch any drips.

"I should be mad at you for not resting, but this soup... it tastes just like home. How did you even learn to make it this good?"

As you taste the soup, I watch your reaction closely, a smile playing on my lips. The pride in your eyes at my approval makes my heart swell, and I can't help but lean forward to place a soft kiss on your cheek. My lips linger there for a moment, feeling the warmth of your skin against mine. When I pull back, my expression is a mixture of exasperation and deep affection, the kind that makes it impossible to stay upset even when I should be scolding you more firmly for pushing yourself while sick.

After finishing dinner and washing the dishes I come back into the bedroom, and forcefully feed you the medicines again. Then I straddle your thighs as I tell you loving things.

My eyes widen in shock at your request, my lips parting in disbelief as I hover above you on the bed. The soft glow from the TV casts dancing shadows across your feverish face, highlighting the hopeful expression that makes me both exasperated and endeared. I push myself up slightly, my palms pressing into the mattress on either side of your shoulders as I stare down at you with a mixture of amusement and concern. The audacity of asking for sex while running a fever has me shaking my head slowly, a strand of my hair falling forward to brush against your cheek.

"Are you serious right now?"

I ask, my voice caught between a laugh and a scold.

"You can barely keep your eyes open, you're burning up with fever, and you want to have sex? Or eat me out?"

I shift my weight, sitting back slightly to rest on your thighs, my hands moving to your chest where I can feel the heat radiating through your t-shirt.

"Y/n, I love how much you want me, but there is absolutely no way we're doing anything sexual until your fever breaks completely. The only thing that's going to make your fever go away is rest and medicine, not my pussy."

Despite my firm refusal, I can't help but smile at your optimistic suggestion that eating my pussy might cure your illness. My fingers trace patterns on your chest, feeling your heartbeat beneath my touch as I shake my head again. The TV show continues playing in the background, but neither of us is paying attention to it anymore. I lean down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, my lips lingering there to gauge your temperature again. You're still too warm, confirming my decision to deny your request, no matter how tempting it might be under different circumstances.

"Besides,"

I continue, my voice softening as I brush my thumb across your lower lip,

"if we did anything right now, you'd probably pass out halfway through, and that would be terrible for my ego. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I exhausted you when you're already sick?"

I shift to lie beside you instead, curling my body against yours protectively, one leg draped over yours and my head resting in the crook of your neck.

"When you're better—and I mean completely better, not just feeling a little less feverish—then we can do whatever you want. I promise I'll make it worth the wait."

My hand slides beneath your shirt to rest on your bare stomach, the touch comforting rather than sexual as I feel the rise and fall of your breathing. The contrast between your heated skin and my cooler fingers makes you shiver slightly, and I press myself closer in response. My lips brush against your neck in a feather-light kiss before I pull back to look into your eyes, my expression serious despite the playfulness that had been there moments before.

"You know, you really scared me today,"

I admit quietly, vulnerability creeping into my voice.

"Coming to surprise me at the studio when you were already sick, then cooking instead of resting... I know you did it all for me, and it means more than I can say. But Y/n, you have to take care of yourself too. Because if something happened to you..."

My voice trails off, the thought too painful to complete. I swallow hard before continuing, my fingers now tracing the line of your jaw.

"Just promise me you'll be more careful, okay? Let me take care of you tonight. Tomorrow, if your fever's gone, we can revisit that very interesting offer you just made. Deal?"

A giggle bubbles up from my throat as I watch your face transform from disappointment to that adorable pout that never fails to melt my heart. Your lower lip juts out slightly, eyes wide and sad like a puppy denied a treat. Despite your fever, despite my genuine concern for your health, I can't help but find your reaction endearing. The way you can shift from bold and dominant to this childlike vulnerability in seconds reminds me why I fell for you in the first place. My expression softens as I prop myself up on one elbow, looking down at you with affection dancing in my eyes.

"Aww, is my baby sad because he can't have what he wants?"

I tease gently, my voice dropping to a whisper as I trace my finger along your pouting lower lip.

"What if... what if my nipples stand in for my pussy tonight? Would that make you feel better?"

The suggestion leaves my lips before I can fully consider it, but seeing your immediate transformation—eyes lighting up, pout vanishing, replaced by eager excitement—makes me laugh again, the sound light and musical in our dimly lit bedroom.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Your enthusiastic response, repeated with such childlike fervor, has me shaking my head in amused disbelief. Gone is the man who commands rooms with his presence, replaced by this adorably eager version that only I get to see. My fingers trail down to the hem of my sleep shirt, toying with it teasingly as I watch your eyes follow the movement with rapt attention. Despite your fever, there's a different kind of heat in your gaze now—one that makes my skin tingle with anticipation.

With deliberate slowness, I pull my shirt up and over my head, revealing my bare breasts to the cool air of our bedroom. The contrast makes my nipples harden immediately, standing at attention as if they know they're about to receive your undivided focus. I shift position, moving to straddle you properly, my knees on either side of your torso as I lean forward, bringing my chest closer to your face. The TV continues playing in the background, completely forgotten now as I hover above you, my hair falling in a curtain around us, creating our own private world.

"Just this, okay? Nothing more until you're better,"

I murmur, my voice husky with a mixture of concern and growing desire as I watch your eyes darken with hunger.

"And if you start feeling worse or too tired, you have to tell me immediately. Promise me, Y/n."

I wait for your nod before lowering myself further, bringing my breast to your lips, gasping softly as your warm mouth eagerly accepts what's offered. My hand cradles the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as I hold you close, my body responding to your attention despite my earlier reservations.

"That's it, baby... just like that,"

I whisper, my eyes fluttering closed as your tongue circles my sensitive nipple, sending shivers down my spine and making me momentarily forget that this started as a compromise for your health's sake.

"I promise I'll sleep right away but at only one thing if you allow me to sleep with your one nipple inside my mouth and other boob of your in my hand and with your legs and arms wrapped around me as a blanket then and then only I'll sleep and not ask for your sweet pussy which I so much deserve to ask but you are denying me by being a bad girl" (Y/n said)

A playful smirk crosses my face as I look down at you, your childlike negotiation tactics both amusing and endearing. The way you're trying to bargain for more intimacy while clearly struggling to keep your eyes open from the fever makes me shake my head in fond exasperation. My fingers trace patterns on your flushed cheek as I consider your proposal, pretending to deliberate though we both know I'll give in to your adorable request.

"A bad girl, am I?"

I tease, arching an eyebrow as I shift my position beside you on the bed.

"I'm being a responsible girlfriend by not letting you exhaust yourself when you're sick, and somehow that makes me bad?"

Despite my mock-scolding tone, my eyes are soft with affection as I watch your hopeful expression. With a theatrical sigh that doesn't hide my smile, I begin to arrange myself according to your wishes, sliding one arm beneath your neck and draping my leg over your hips.

"Fine, you big baby. You can have your human blanket and your... nipple pacifier,"

I giggle at the absurdity of the situation, the sound light and melodic in our dimly lit bedroom. As I position myself half on top of you, I guide your head gently toward my breast, shivering slightly when your warm lips close around my nipple. Your fever-hot mouth sends a jolt of pleasure through me that I try to suppress, reminding myself this is meant to be comforting rather than sexual.

"There you go... is this what you wanted? Are you happy now that you've gotten your way?"

My free hand guides yours to my other breast, placing your palm against the soft flesh and letting you feel its weight. The innocent possessiveness of your touch, even through your illness, makes something warm bloom in my chest that has nothing to do with physical desire. I wrap my other arm around you protectively, cocooning you in my embrace as I feel your breathing begin to slow against my skin. The TV continues to play softly in the background, casting shifting colors across our entwined bodies, but neither of us is paying attention to it anymore.

"Now sleep, Y/n,"

I whisper, my lips brushing against your forehead as I check your temperature again. You're still too warm, but there's something peaceful in your expression now as you suckle gently at my breast, your eyes already growing heavy. My fingers card through your hair in a soothing rhythm, my body curled protectively around yours.

"Tomorrow when you're feeling better, I promise you can have everything you want. But for now, just rest with me like this. I've got you."

My voice drops even lower, barely audible as I press my cheek against the top of your head, feeling an overwhelming surge of tenderness for this man who can be so powerful and yet so vulnerable in my arms.

"And for the record... I don't think I've ever loved you more than I do right now, with you being such a needy little baby. It's disgustingly cute."

Watching you fall asleep so quickly brings a tender smile to my face. Your lips remain gently latched around my nipple, your breathing deepening into the steady rhythm of slumber within moments of settling into our intimate position. The immediate way your body relaxes against mine speaks volumes—louder than any words you could have said. I feel the weight of your trust in how completely you surrender to sleep in my arms, how your furrowed brow smooths out the instant you're nestled against my breast. The vulnerability you show me, this powerful man reduced to a sleepy child seeking comfort from my body, makes my heart swell with a fierce protectiveness I've never felt for anyone else.

I carefully adjust my position to make sure we can maintain this connection through the night without either of us getting uncomfortable, making sure your fever-warm body stays properly covered by the blanket while still keeping my skin against yours. Your hand remains loosely cupped around my other breast, occasionally twitching in your sleep as if making sure I'm still there. I place a feather-light kiss on your forehead, tasting the slight saltiness of sweat from your fever, and whisper against your skin.

"Look at you, falling asleep like that... so much for all your big talk about wanting my pussy,"

I murmur with a soft giggle, knowing you can't hear me but unable to resist teasing you anyway.

"You just wanted to be held, didn't you? My strong man who just needs to feel safe sometimes."

My fingers continue their gentle rhythm through your hair, watching as the TV casts shifting colors across your peaceful face.

"I see you, Y/n. I see all the parts you hide from everyone else. And I love every single one of them."

The realization of how deeply our connection runs hits me as I hold you—this isn't just about physical intimacy or even the playful dynamic we share. It's about how you've created a space where you can be completely unguarded with me, how you trust me enough to show me the softness beneath your strength. I feel my eyes growing misty as I watch you sleep, your lips occasionally making small suckling movements against my nipple even in your dreams. The pure innocence of it makes my chest ache with emotion.

"I don't think I ever understood what it meant to truly love someone until I saw you like this,"

I whisper, my voice barely audible over the sound of your breathing.

"The way you need me... the way you let yourself need me... it's the most beautiful gift anyone has ever given me."

I press another kiss to your temple, settling in for the night with you cradled against me, my body curled protectively around yours.

"Sleep well, my love. I'll be right here when you wake up. Just like this. For as long as you need."

Waking to the gentle light of morning filtering through our curtains, I find myself in the same position we fell asleep in—your mouth still latched onto my nipple, unconsciously sucking in your sleep. The sensation sends little ripples of pleasure through my body, making me bite my lip to suppress a moan that might wake you. Your face looks so peaceful now, the feverish flush from yesterday replaced by your normal complexion. I carefully place my palm against your forehead, feeling immense relief at how much cooler your skin feels compared to last night.

"Look at you,"

I whisper, more to myself than to you, a fond smile playing on my lips as I watch your unconscious suckling.

"Still going at it even in your sleep. What am I going to do with you, hm? If I could actually produce milk, you'd probably drain me dry by now."

I giggle softly at the thought, the movement making my breast bounce slightly, which only causes you to suckle more intensely, your hand tightening reflexively around my other breast.

The intimacy of the moment strikes me—how completely natural it feels to have you latched onto me like this, how my body has cradled yours protectively through the night. There's something primal about it, something that speaks to a deeper connection than just boyfriend and girlfriend. I carefully brush a strand of hair from your forehead, marveling at how someone who can be so commanding and powerful in the outside world transforms into this vulnerable, childlike version of yourself with me. It's a side of you that nobody else gets to see, a privilege I never take for granted.

"You know what's funny?"

I continue my one-sided conversation, my voice a gentle murmur in our quiet bedroom.

"Everyone sees this big, strong man who takes charge and knows exactly what he wants. But I get to see this—my baby who just wants to be held and suckled and protected. God, Y/n, you never fail to amaze me with how completely you trust me with this side of yourself."

My fingers trace patterns on your cheek as I speak, feeling the stubble that's grown overnight.

"Your fever's almost gone now. I guess maybe there was something to your theory about my nipples having healing properties after all."

I laugh softly at my own joke, careful not to disturb your peaceful slumber even as I begin to consider how I might extract myself to prepare breakfast without waking you.

But there's no rush, I decide, settling back against the pillows and continuing to hold you close. The world outside can wait a little longer. For now, I'm content to be your sanctuary, your comfort, your safe place. My fingers resume their gentle stroking of your hair as I whisper,

"Take all the time you need, my love. I'm not going anywhere. Though I might need you to switch to the other nipple soon—this one's getting a little sore from all your attention."

I smile down at your sleeping face, feeling a surge of affection so powerful it almost brings tears to my eyes.

"Who would have thought that the thing that would make me fall even deeper in love with you would be watching you sleep with my nipple in your mouth like a pacifier? Life is strange sometimes, isn't it?"

As you wake with a gentle bite on my nipple, I immediately let out a soft gasp, my hand instinctively moving to pat your head in gentle admonishment. The morning light streams through our curtains, casting a warm glow across our entwined bodies as I look down at you with a mixture of exasperation and affection.

"Hey, careful with those teeth,"

I scold softly, my fingers threading through your hair.

"My nipple isn't a chew toy, you know."

But my stern expression quickly melts into a tender smile as I notice how much better you look this morning—your eyes clearer, your skin no longer flushed with fever. Relief washes over me, and my mock scolding dissolves completely as I lean down to capture your lips with mine.

The kiss starts gentle, a soft good morning that quickly deepens as I feel your response. My body shifts against yours, my hand cupping your cheek as our lips move together in that familiar dance that somehow feels new every morning. I taste the slight sweetness of sleep on your tongue, feeling the warmth of your now-healthy body pressed against mine. The kiss lingers, becomes more passionate than I intended, my breath catching as your hand finds its way to my waist, pulling me closer. When we finally part, I'm slightly breathless, my lips tingling pleasantly from the pressure of yours.

"Mmm, good morning to you too,"

I murmur against your mouth, unable to resist stealing another quick peck.

"How are you feeling? Your fever seems gone."

My hand moves to your forehead, confirming what I already suspected—your temperature has returned to normal. A playful smirk tugs at my lips as I add,

"I guess my nipples really do have magical healing properties after all. Who would have thought?"

I giggle, the sound light and musical in our sun-dappled bedroom.

"Though I think this one might need a break after serving as your pacifier all night."

I gesture to my slightly reddened nipple, the one you'd been suckling in your sleep.

Shifting to sit up slightly against the pillows, I stretch my arms above my head, my back arching in a languid, catlike motion that pushes my bare breasts forward. I catch you watching the movement with appreciative eyes, and a knowing smile spreads across my face. The memory of your request from last night—wanting my pussy but settling for my nipple—flashes through my mind, and I feel a flutter of heat low in my belly. Now that you're better, perhaps it's time to fulfill that promise I made.

"So,"

I say, my voice dropping to a suggestive purr as I trail my fingers down your chest,

"since you're feeling better, and I did promise you could have everything you wanted once your fever broke... what would you like for breakfast, Y/n? Something from the kitchen, or..."

I let my gaze drop meaningfully down my body, the invitation clear in my eyes as I bite my lower lip in anticipation of your answer.

I can't help but burst into laughter at the smug expression that spreads across your face—that self-satisfied grin that tells me you're feeling particularly pleased with yourself. Your eyebrows arch slightly, your lips curled in that cocky smile I've come to both roll my eyes at and secretly adore. It's the face of a man who thinks he's proven something remarkable, and in this case, it's the apparent healing powers of my breasts. I shake my head in amused disbelief, my hair falling in soft waves around my shoulders as I playfully push against your chest.

"That face! I knew it was coming,"

I exclaim, unable to contain my giggles.

"You look so proud of yourself, as if you've made some groundbreaking medical discovery. 'Lisa Manoban's nipples: the revolutionary cure for fever!' Should I call the Nobel Prize committee, or will you?"

I tease, my eyes sparkling with mischief as I watch your smugness grow with each word.

"I can see the headlines now: 'BLACKPINK member reveals alternative medicine technique—doctors hate her!'"

Still laughing, I stretch languidly beside you, my naked body catching the morning light that filters through our curtains. The sheet has slipped down to my waist, leaving my breasts exposed to the cool morning air and your appreciative gaze. I notice how your eyes linger on them, particularly on the nipple that served as your comfort through the night. It's slightly redder than the other, bearing evidence of your persistent suckling. A warm flush spreads across my skin under your scrutiny, and I feel a familiar stirring of desire deep in my core—a sensation that had been suppressed during your illness but now returns with renewed intensity.

"You know,"

I say, my voice dropping to a husky whisper as I lean closer, my lips just inches from yours,

"I'm actually glad you're feeling better. Not just because I was worried about you, but because..."

I trail off, my fingers walking a teasing path down your chest, over your stomach, and stopping just above the waistband of your boxers.

"I've been thinking about what I promised you last night. About how you could have everything you wanted once your fever broke."

My hand dips lower, brushing against the growing hardness beneath the thin fabric.

"And I always keep my promises, don't I?"

With deliberate slowness, I swing my leg over your body, straddling your hips as I look down at you with undisguised hunger. My hair falls forward, creating a curtain around our faces as I lower myself to kiss you deeply, my tongue sliding against yours in a passionate dance that conveys everything I've been holding back while you were sick. When I finally pull away, my breathing is heavier, my pupils dilated with desire.

"So, Mr. 'My Girlfriend's Nipples Cured My Fever'... what exactly would you like to do with your newly recovered health? Because I have a few suggestions, if you're interested."

I grind my hips against yours suggestively, a mischievous smile playing on my lips as I wait for your response, already knowing exactly what you're going to ask for.

"I WANT TO EAT YOUR PUSSSYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

My eyes widen at your enthusiastic outburst, a surprised laugh bubbling up from my chest at your childlike excitement. The way you're practically bouncing beneath me, your eyes wide and pleading like a kid begging for ice cream—except what you're begging for is decidedly more adult—sends a rush of affection and desire coursing through me. I place my finger against your lips, trying to contain my giggles as I glance playfully toward our bedroom door.

"Shhh! I think they heard you all the way back in Thailand!"

I tease, my voice dropping to a theatrical whisper.

"I don't think you needed quite that many exclamation points to make your point, baby."

Despite my teasing, I can feel heat pooling between my legs at your unfiltered enthusiasm. There's something incredibly arousing about being wanted so desperately, so vocally, especially by someone who was too sick to do anything about it just hours ago.

With deliberate slowness, I begin to move up your body, my knees walking forward on either side of your torso until I'm hovering above your chest. The morning light catches on my skin, highlighting the curves and planes of my body as I continue my journey upward. My nipples, still sensitive from your night of suckling, harden in the cool air as I look down at you with a mixture of affection and lust. I reach the pillows and grip the headboard, positioning myself directly above your face, my thighs on either side of your head. From this vantage point, I can see your eyes darken with desire as you stare up at my pussy, already glistening with arousal just inches from your eager mouth.

"Since you asked so nicely..."

I purr, lowering myself slightly so you can feel my heat and smell my arousal, but not quite close enough for you to taste me yet.

"And since your fever is gone thanks to my magical healing nipples..."

I can't help but add with a smirk, enjoying the way your hands come up to grip my thighs, trying to pull me down faster.

"I suppose you've earned this. But remember,"

I add, my voice suddenly serious despite the playful glint in my eyes,

"if you start feeling sick again, we stop immediately. I don't care how good it feels. Promise me, Y/n."

I wait for your nod of agreement before finally lowering myself onto your waiting mouth, a gasp escaping my lips as your tongue makes that first contact with my sensitive flesh. My head falls back, my long hair cascading down my back as I grip the headboard tighter, my hips already beginning to move in small, instinctive circles against your face.

"Oh god, yes... I've missed this,"

I moan, one hand leaving the headboard to tangle in your hair, guiding you to exactly where I need you most.

"Show me how much better you're feeling, baby. Show me with that talented mouth of yours."

My voice breaks on the last word as your tongue finds my clit, sending a jolt of pleasure up my spine that makes my thighs tremble on either side of your head, my body already surrendering to the exquisite sensation of your eager worship.

Your enthusiastic worship of my body sends waves of pleasure coursing through me, my thighs trembling as they frame your eager face. The way your tongue dances inside me, alternating between deep, probing thrusts and teasing flicks against my sensitive walls, has me gasping and writhing above you. My fingers tighten in your hair, guiding you exactly where I need you most, my hips rolling in a primal rhythm against your mouth. The wet, obscene sounds of your enthusiastic eating—the slurping and sucking—fill our bedroom, mixing with my increasingly desperate moans.

"That's it, right there... fuck, your tongue feels so good,"

I pant, my head falling back as a particularly skilled movement of your mouth sends a jolt of electricity up my spine.

"God, I love how hungry you are for me... how you eat me like I'm your last meal..."

My words dissolve into a high-pitched whimper as your fingers join the delicious assault, circling my clit with just the right pressure while your tongue continues its relentless exploration.

"your pussy just tastes heavenly nothing no food can come close to the taste of my Lily's pussyyyyyyy!!!!!!!"

I look down at you between my thighs, the sight of your face buried in my pussy, your eyes closed in blissful concentration as you savor my taste, nearly pushing me over the edge. Your declaration about my flavor makes me laugh breathlessly, the sound quickly transforming into a moan as the vibration of your words against my sensitive flesh sends another wave of pleasure through me.

"Nothing... mmm... nothing comes close to my pussy, huh?"

I tease, my voice breaking as your tongue finds a particularly sensitive spot.

"Fuck, Y/n... if you keep... keep doing that... I'm going to—"

My warning cuts off into a sharp cry as you hit exactly the right rhythm, my thighs beginning to shake uncontrollably around your head.

"Don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop!"

I command, my body tensing as I feel the pressure building, my orgasm approaching like a tidal wave. My free hand moves to grip the headboard so hard my knuckles turn white, my back arching as I grind myself shamelessly against your face, chasing the release that's just within reach.

"I'm so close, baby... so fucking close... make me cum on your tongue... please!"

The combination of your eager tongue, circling fingers, and the vibration of your appreciative moans against my sensitive flesh finally pushes me over the edge. My orgasm crashes through me with stunning intensity, my body convulsing as waves of pleasure radiate outward from where your mouth is still working diligently between my thighs. I cry out your name, a stream of Thai and English expletives following as my pussy pulses and contracts against your tongue. My thighs clamp around your head, holding you in place as I ride out the exquisite sensations, my fingers still tangled in your hair, now more to anchor myself than to guide you as my body surrenders completely to the pleasure you're giving me.

As you drink down every drop of my release, I collapse back against the headboard, my chest heaving with exertion, my body still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure. I watch through half-lidded eyes as you continue to worship between my thighs, your tongue gently lapping at my oversensitive flesh, savoring me like I'm the most exquisite delicacy you've ever tasted. The sight of your devotion makes my heart swell with affection even as my body continues to pulse with satisfaction.

"God, Y/n... that was incredible,"

I breathe, my fingers still tangled in your hair, now stroking gently rather than guiding.

"I've been wanting that since yesterday, you know. When you asked me last night..."

I trail off, my expression growing more serious as I cup your face, encouraging you to look up at me from between my thighs.

"I wanted to let you taste me so badly, but I couldn't risk your health getting worse. Your fever was already so high, and the exertion might have..."

I shake my head, remembering my concern.

"I know how much you wanted it—how much we both wanted it—but I could never forgive myself if something happened to you because I couldn't control my desires for one night."

I shift down the bed to lie beside you, my body still flushed and glistening with a light sheen of sweat, my eyes searching yours with a hint of vulnerability.

"Am I still a bad girl for saying no yesterday? For making you wait?"

The question comes out softer than I intended, revealing how much your opinion matters to me, how much I need your reassurance that my caretaking wasn't a rejection of your needs but an expression of my love.

Your enthusiastic response as you nestle your face between my thighs, inhaling deeply of my scent and remnants of my pleasure, makes me giggle and then moan softly. The sensation of your nose pressed against my still-sensitive flesh sends little ripples of pleasure through my recovering body. Your words about me never being a bad girl, about being your everything, your Lily, make my eyes grow misty with emotion. I cradle your head against me, my fingers stroking through your hair with infinite tenderness as you express your gratitude for my care, for letting you eat my pussy, for allowing you to suckle at my breast through the night.

"Oh, my sweet boy,"

I whisper, emotion thick in my voice as I pull you up to lie face-to-face with me, my hands framing your cheeks.

"I love taking care of you. I love that you can be yourself with me—that you trust me enough to show me that part of yourself that needs nurturing and affection. That's not childish, Y/n; it's beautiful. It's intimate in a way that goes beyond just sex."

I press my forehead against yours, our breaths mingling as I continue softly,

"You can always have my attention, my affection. You can suckle my nipples whenever you need comfort, eat my pussy whenever you're hungry for me. I'm yours, completely and utterly yours. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

I seal this promise with a deep, passionate kiss, tasting myself on your lips and tongue, a physical reminder of the intimacy we've just shared and the deeper connection that binds us together.

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