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sordidmusings · 3 months

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Give (in) and Take (me) - (Beckman x Reader)

Art by shibama_TK9

A/N: *Hasn’t completed a smut in weeks, comes back throwing a niche character at you to spread simpin for him like a virus* plz love him he’s great and while he ain’t my main I’d have nooooooo complaints in partaking 😩 tryin to give @fanaticsnail some morsels cuz the writing for this man is quite devastatingly scant. She also a whole sweetie and wrote me some perfect Buggy when she found out I was doing this. Obviously I am much slower 🥴🥴🥴

Word Count: ~8.7k

Warnings: fem!reader, NSFW, there’s some plot at the front and back, bratty reader, brat-tamer Beckman, he does the Nanami hair grab 👌🏻, semi-public, standing, against the wall, man-handling, clothed sex, p in v, creampie, praise, degredation, lots of teasing on both sides, age gap? (briefly mentioned, ~30 and late 40s), Beckman is a lil mean but don't worry he's Whipped, this some filth filth 🥴 whoops

Now please come enjoy prodding the big gruff man (who just wants to treat you right) until he snaps

(˵¯͒〰¯͒˵)

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You’ve had enough of the raucous jubilation in the bar, especially now that you noticed your awaited opening unfolding before you. The rest of the Red Hair Pirates were fully distracted in their jovial whirling, hooting, and playing, leaving a certain silver smoke cloud all by his lonesome. You’d been dancing through his whisps all night, enjoying how they’d wrap and curl around you as you went. It was in their nature to do so. Each brush of a hand got a shiver and a sigh and a trailing stare. Each floated conversation was leaned into, breathed in, savored. Each departure was followed with the turn and lean of his chest, pulled to follow from the sure grip on his thumping heart until his doubts rooted him down and resisted the tug.

You were plagued by your own doubts, mostly of what the “after” would look like, but you were certain of one thing: he was attracted. Along with his need to entwine with your presence, you’d noticed the tell-tale sign of his gaze drawn to lips, neck, breasts, hips, and thighs. You’d noticed the hunger growing his pupils so they could better suck in your image on each glance. You’d noticed how he had to keep flicking his tongue out to wet his lips, mouth dry from restrained need. Most importantly, you’d noticed the way he had to shift and shuffle while he watched you dance, fighting the need to pull you away for himself to join and trying to flush the heat from his body. Whatever it was that was holding him in his seat and keeping his hands and lips and tongue off of you, you were going to drag him right through it until he was fully in your grasp.

First thing’s first, you retook your spot on the stool next to him at the bar. Immediately the smoke tendrils embraced you; your drink was scooted back in front of you, his thigh slid sideways to seek the brush of yours, a lethargic smile took residence on his face to greet you. You responded with a coy smile of your own and then a hearty gulp of your drink. The steady burn and potent taste of liquorice cutting through the muddled mint and lemon centered you and heartened you for your plan of attack.

“Thanks, Becks, glad to have you as my cocktail guard dog,” you said with teasing humor. You gave his thigh a friendly pat that crossed the amicable boundary with a lingering hold and gentle squeeze, before you brought the hand back up to give you another sip of your drink. The taste of touch on his thick muscle had it twitch in delight. Your mouth watered at the feel, not quite sated with alcohol on your tongue when there should be skin.

“Any time, darlin’,” Beckman responded easily and honestly. “Though I don’t think there’s any here who would do much to it. Much more likely one of the fools will steal it to drink for themselves.”

You laughed at the statement, knowing how true it was. When the crew was drunk they got sticky fingers, and when it came to drinks they were the worst - none quite remembering whose was whose and caring even less to get it right. Knowing where you wanted to try and get this night to go, you’d kept yourself far behind them in intoxication. You kept yourself right in the sweet spot of inebriated enough for that coveted liquid courage but not so much that you were out of control of yourself. Besides, if you got your way you didn’t want any of the details to be foggy.

“Even so, it’s appreciated,” you reasserted, giving him a winning smile and stalling his heart. “Now can I ask another favor of you?”

“‘Course you can, darlin’,” he replied instantly. Another cheer rang out in the background, followed by the beginnings of a long and loud drinking song. Beckman used this as an excuse to lean into your space to better hear and see you. “What can I do for you?”

You centered yourself more forward towards the bar, just to force him to lean in even closer to chase you, and peeked at him from the corner of your eye. The look mixed with your mischievous smile had him ready and eager to agree to whatever you had in mind. Not that he’d let you see how easy it was for you to sway him.

“Well…” you trailed off, just to make him squirm, “I can think of lots of things you could do for me. I’m having trouble picking my favorite.”

Beckman’s brows rose at the blatant flirting. Sure, you’d both thrown some flirtatious comments at each other throughout your relationship, but they didn’t feel anything like this. They felt easy, friendly - like something to build rapport and have fun. This felt so much heavier - a gift offered to him that was pulling the possibility of closeness from cloudy dreams down to the ground with the weight of the warm cast of the bar lights, the dark desire in your eyes, and the sultry tone of your voice. He began to recount how many drinks he’d had to check if he was imagining the advances he’d long wished for. Maybe he should check for you too.

“Darlin’, how many drinks you got in you?” There was genuine concern in the question, mixing with a touch of incredulity. You scoffed at it all.

“Not enough to lose my sense, thank you very much,” you answered. To snub his misplaced worries, you downed the rest of your drink. “That was only the fifth of the night, we’ve been here hours, and you know it takes much more than that to take me down.”

“That it does,” Beckmann conceded. The bare affection in his voice and eyes while he said it had you flushing, finding care much more difficult to process than lust. “Now my task?”

Yet again, you took to keeping him in suspense. Instead of answering, you slowly drew your gaze over him, assessing him. He fought against the small shiver it put through him; he felt like you were staring straight through his clothes. He felt like he was getting the most important appraisal of his life and all he had to go on was the burning in your eyes and your cryptic smile. You were doing a better job of reading him; while his expression remained perfectly schooled, you were observant enough to see his tells. Just as when he watched you dance, he shifted in his seat, working through the flush of arousal poured on him from his nervousness and having your eyes glued to him. Between the curtains of his wavy silver hair, you saw his Adam's apple bob with a strong swallow. He started lightly drumming on the bartop with his fingers on the hand closest to you.

Using that to your advantage, you made your next move. Doing it slowly so he could layer each second with his anticipation, you trailed your fingertips across the knuckles of his fidgeting hand, halting the motion. You flicked your gaze up to check in on his eyes. They mostly held confusion, but so so much interest was also packed into his silver irises. Happy with the reaction, you proceeded to move your teasing touch further, traveling over the back of his hand and his wrist to play with the soft hair on his forearm in deliberate circles. Though he was nearly bursting with questions, Beckman kept his mouth shut and resolved to let you lead this at your own pace until you finally decided it was time to reveal your hand to him.

“I’ve decided,” you started, finally breaking the silence with an alluring whisper, “that I want more than one favor.” You stopped watching your fingers touch him to look at him through your lashes. “And I know where you can start.”

Beckman blew out a long breath, hoping to settle down his heart, which was still jumping and kicking. You’re not drunk, but this has to be the alcohol. You couldn’t be propositioning him. Him. Maybe he’s just a curiosity? Perhaps you were interested in trying out an experience with an older lover who’s had more years to learn his way around a woman? Maybe, even though you could have your choice of any of the patrons, you found him to be the easy target.

“And where is that?” he asked, making sure to keep his tone steady.

“You can take me home.” You noticed the real shock in his gaze, and for the first time in the encounter a bit of panic seeped into you. Thinking quickly to soften the blow, you explained, “Don’t wanna walk home alone with even a little alcohol in me, and I know you’ll take care of me.”

“Aye, darlin’, that I will.” The honesty in his words stoked your courage back into a steady burn even better than the one brought on by the hard drinks.

Using the hand that had been trailing over his forearm, you loosely held his wrist, slid smoothly from your seat, and began leading him out of the bar. Beckman followed you easily. You didn’t have to put any pressure behind your hold on him; he wouldn’t let you get more than a step ahead of him. Even with his close hover, you both ducked and weaved with practiced grace through the chaos of your crew and the rowdy celebration they’d whipped up with all the other patrons. By the time you’d reached the entrance, you’d ducked three swinging fists, five drunken “dances”, two frisbeed hats, one flung fork, and a pair of tossed shirts.

The door shutting behind you sealed away the cacophony of the crowd, melding it with the comforting ambience of late night bugsong and strangers distantly living their lives. The outside world felt pleasantly chill and calm, especially in contrast to the atmosphere of the bar. The slight bite to the air only made the small contact between the two of you feel that much sweeter in its skin-to-skin warmth. Both you and Beckman sucked in a deep breath of crisp evening air to savor the moment.

Throwing a cheeky (and, to his worry, slightly plotting) smile his way, you began to head in the direction of the docks. You only made it about eight steps. The moment the alley between buildings opened on your right, you yanked Beckman into the shadows with you. He stumbled after you with barely a fight, continuing his emotional flavors of the night: confused, intrigued, and happy to be here. Once you fell past the full streams of light from the street lamps, you spun around to him and pounced.

You began by rooting him in place, fisting your hands tight into his shirt by his waist and stepping so close that your chests and stomachs and hips and thighs touched. You leaned up to place a kiss right above the point in his v-neck, relishing the heat of his skin against your lips. You shivered at the feeling of a twitch of interest against your lower stomach. His hands quickly found your waist and gripped. He worried the flesh under his fingers, earning his first quiet moan from you. It only made his grip stiffen, warring with himself between his disbelief at your advances and the rabid need to pull you closer and make sure you never stopped.

Beckman began to use his hold on you to ease you back from him. You responded with a frustrated whine and greedy hands. Those hands massaged their way across the packed muscles of his sides and chest before twisting in the fabric over his large pecs and tugging him down to your height. Taking advantage of the untouched skin now within reach, you kissed and sucked your way over his collarbone and up his neck.

His plan of retreat crumbled under your advance, leaving him to paw his grip down to the meat of your hips and try not to succumb to the fierce instinct to grind his aching cock against you. Your head spun with your rushing blood and skipping breaths. The whirl was spurred on by finally getting to know the taste of his skin, the feeling of his coveting hands keeping you close, the sound of his stuttering breaths morphing into panting. Now you just needed to spur him from receiving into action.

“Beck, touch me,” you whispered against his ear. He shivered fully from your lips and breath ghosting over him and filling his skin with addictive tingles. Losing his concentration, Beckman guided your hips in one long, sturdy grind against his straining hardness. You nipped his earlobe in appreciation. “I want you to touch me.”

“You’re drunk,” he weakly protested.

“We both know I’m not,” you shot back. Switching your methods, you crawled your hands up his shoulders, his neck, and into his hair. You led him with sweet and teasing kisses against his cheek and jaw, playing with the way his head always tilted to follow your affections in a wanting daze.

“You should look for another man to share your body,” he tried again, this time managing to sound assertive through the breathiness of his voice.

“Do you really want another man touching me?” you bit back at him.

“No,” he instantly growled. The mere idea had always put a pang in his heart but feeling your touch and hearing the words from you made it more real, and he was no match for the spike of angry possessiveness that overtook him.

“Good,” you cooed coyly, lips back against his ear, “because I don’t want that either.” You took a long moment to tease your nails against his scalp and nip the skin next to his pulse. He succumbed to another torturous grind against you. Each press of him gave you a better idea of what he was hiding and had your mind running rampant trying to figure out how it would feel splitting you open.

“I want you,” you moaned, pushing all the genuine need into your voice that you could.

“Come on, pretty thing, you don’t mean that,” Beckman stubbornly argued. He’d sound much more convincing if he wasn’t moaning the words out with his strained rumble, turning the statement into a plea.

“I do though,” you whined back to him, right below his ear where you were working hard to leave another pretty mark. For all his propriety fueled hesitation, Beckman was still leaning down so you could reach his neck and tilting his stubbled jaw away, pleading for more of your attention. “I do mean it.”

Your own desperation and his unspoken pleas for your touch fueled your boldness. One of your hands left his tresses to wedge between your pressed hips and grab a hold of him. A groan shook through his ribs, only encouraging your hand to press and feel more. His cock twitched and jumped under your slow strokes and palming, begging for your touch when he wouldn’t. His cheek fell to your shoulder and his humid panting caressed your neck.

“Pretty girl, if you keep touching me like that,” his speech was interrupted by a poorly restrained moan, “I’m not gonna be able to keep my head.”

“Then don’t,” you encouraged, voice rushed and ravenous and pulling him to the depths of his urges in his new favorite siren song.

Having felt him in your palm, you became set on getting to feel him skin to skin. You wanted to feel the power of the radiant heat that poured from him so strongly you both felt like you were burning through your clothes. You wanted to see what’s been hidden from you, become privy to secrets that will let your fantasies forever hold more reality. You wanted to know he let you have this piece of him, let you take his body and take control of his pleasure. On top of all of that, you wanted to feel, see, and know the thick hardness that was going to stretch you wide open.

In your rush, you only gave yourself time to trail a few kisses down his chest on your way to your knees. Beckman leaned himself back on the wall of the bar, opening himself up to as much of your touch as you would give. He still attempted to keep his defense under the siege of temptation, taking to opening and closing his hands at his sides to keep them from manhandling you. He wasn’t strong enough, however, to push you away. Each touch of yours was teasing him with the heaven he’d been dreaming of finding under your hands and in your body. Now having had a taste of your touch, It’d take nothing short of a gun to the head for him to break from anything you were willing to give. Doesn’t mean he won’t try to steer it so you’re taken care of the way he wants you to be.

He looked down at you, hypnotized by the radiant image of you and your styled hair and your decorated lashes and your smudged lipstick actually kissing him, treating him with the desire he thought impossible. His eyes had long adjusted to the darkness of the alley, blessedly letting him take in this image to hoard forever.

As your knees hit the dirt path, it hit him - alley. You were getting yourself dirty to touch him, basically in public in your rush, stuck in a location with only hard ground and stone walls for comfort. The realization had his cock throb hard, getting an eager moan from you where you were kissing along his length while your fingers made their way under his sash to find the waistline of his trousers. Fuck, this was a dream. It was a dream, but not the one he wanted for you where he takes his time worshiping every inch of skin, treating you like royalty, going slow so when he makes you cum it shakes you from toes to fingertips to the crown of your head-

“Darlin’, you deserve better than some back alley fu-”

“What I deserve is you; now let me have you,” you grumbled back to him, nosing his sash up so you could leave kisses and nips right above the hem of his pants. You inched them lower and lower, following their descent with your hungry mouth and savoring every new speck of skin you could. You got past the ridge of his adonis belt when you realized he had nothing on underneath them, making your mouth water with ever more anticipation. You could tell from the tenseness in his muscles, the tremors in his thighs under your clawing grip, that he was at the end of his rope. Centering a kiss on his happy trail, you looked straight up into his eyes and ordered, “Now fuck me.”

You were just about to get his pants low enough to let his painfully hard cock out to greet with a kiss when an angry hand took hold of the hair at the back of your head. It clamped in a fist and turned, taking absolute control of you. White hot adrenaline poured through your body, bursting fresh with each hard pound of your heart and stuttering your every breath. That iron grip jerked back, forcing you to crane your head back with it and look up at the imposing bulk of Beckman looming over at you.

“You want me to fuck you?” he growled dangerously, leering down at you with a growing scowl. Steadily he curled himself down until his nose bumped yours and you were sure you could see how the lighting and lust had turned his eyes from shining silver to dark stone. The light pulsing in your scalp was no match for the shadowed face and piercing eyes of Beckman taking over your every thought and dragging your heartbeat low to drum between your legs. “Fine. I’ll fuck you like the slut you’re set on being.”

“I’ll happily be a slut if it's for you,” you breathed out before you could think, sounding nearly in a trance from his sudden dominant behavior.

The declaration had his cock jumping and his knees weak.

“Darlin’,” he moaned, voice stretched thin by his taut, straining need. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

He surged down, stealing your lips in a bruising kiss, using his hold on your hair to control every tilt and press. Right away, you opened to each other, exploring the flavor of each other’s tongues and indulging in the tingles brought on by sliding the slick muscles over each other. You shivered and moaned when he flicked the point of his tongue on the roof of your mouth and he swallowed the sound down greedily. Never breaking his claim on your lips, Beckman hauled you up to your feet. The action set a pleasant burn on your scalp as you chase the pull of his grip. Your hands went back to work on getting his cock free, but he snatched them up.

“No,” he rumbled against your lips. “You’re just going to take what I give you.”

“Beckman,” you whined back to him between your continued fervent kisses, “let me touch you.”

“Sluts don’t make demands,” he snapped in a bitter taunt. Using his height to his advantage, he pulled out of the reach of your lips. He was still able to lean down over you and keep distance, forcing you to keep your head craned back with his fist in your hair and his gaze holding you hostage. “I thought this was what you wanted.”

“I want you,” you moaned in complaint. Though your voice was warbly with want, your tone was way too petulant to be considered begging. Even so, it was testing his resolve.

“You’ll have me,” he answered gruffly.

Before you could realize what was happening, you were flipped around and swapped, now facing the rough wall of the bar with Beckman right behind you. He had released your hair so he could trap each of your wrists to your sides. He kicked your feet to spread with heavy boots and settled eagerly against your ass. He anchored you against him by pulling on your wrists, keeping you trapped against his grinding hips. The height difference had him centered at the level of your tailbone. The feeling of having you against his cock was overwhelming, especially with the plush of your ass massaging at his sensitive balls. Quiet grunts accompanied each circle of his hips, always carried with the erotic sound of his heavy breaths.

You tilted forward and arched your hips up, seeking attention against your weeping entrance and swollen clit. The change had his dick nestle between your cheeks, the base of his cock and his tense balls giving you a small piece of the pleasure you were seeking. He stood just barely too tall for them to give any attention to your clit, causing you to shift and shimmy back into him in search of more. Despite the lack of direct stimulation, your body was still in a pleasant buzz; he felt large and heavy and hot against you and your mind was swimming in joy at how hard you made him. The open-mouthed groan you earned from him with your squirming shot enough pleasure through you to have your clit pulsing.

“On your toes, slut,” he ordered.

You listened without thinking about it and were rewarded with the new height lining him up much better to grind against everywhere you wanted him. Well - almost everywhere. Most of all you ached for him to massage you inside out, rub and dig into every slick plush space you could offer. Despite the burn already entering your calves, you tilted your ass up even higher to feel any extra speck of friction you could get from him.

Beckman’s grip on your hips was commanding, he owned your every sway and grind of your clothed cunt and ass against him. The skirt you were wearing was beginning to ride up with each thrust, exposing inch after inch of fresh skin to his hungry eyes. Both of you thanked your choice of garment as he used one hand to shove it up and over your perked ass to hang limply around your waist. It swayed and brushed your legs with each continued motion, hypnotizing Beckman for a moment.

That moment was broken when he instead looked at your ass, smooshed high and round with each grind, your underwear cutting sinful lines across the muscle, making your skin pop around the tension in the most mouth-watering way. It had Beckman moaning from deep in his chest again and thanking whatever lucky stars he had that let him have you in front of him like this. The sight mixed with the new heat from being just that much closer to getting to your bare cunt had a flurry of possessiveness and need overcome him. He nearly bowed forward to the strength of it, but fought the call so he could keep watching your body writhe against him.

You had no doubt you were sopping wet, more than enough to make his slide in slick. Each grind of him against you had your soaked panties dragging with him, causing sharp friction that was just on the right side of too much. You wondered faintly if you were getting his pants wet too, wishing you could easily turn and see to find out. You wouldn’t have been disappointed; a steady dark spot had built on his crotch from a mix of your leaking pussy and his weeping cock. You had gotten him dripping pre-cum the moment you began kissing down his chest. It had only gotten worse with each touch, his body desperate and ready to be inside you.

Suddenly, one of his hands and his hips disappeared from you, leaving you feeling lost. Before you could stop yourself, you let out a whining moan at the loss, sounding fucked out and pathetic without either of you truly being touched yet. The small coherent part of yourself marveled at the number he had done on you.

“Don’t you worry, pretty thing,” Beckman grumbled, half placating and half condescending. The sound of shuffling fabric clued you in to his missing hand’s task. “I’ll give you just what you need.”

His large fingers hooked into the sides of your underwear, guiding them over your ass until they fell down. Your slightly spread legs had them catch on your thighs and Beckman huffed at the inconvenience.

“Stay right there,” he rumbled in warning as he crouched down. He dragged the soaked cloth the rest of the way off, guiding you with gentle cues. The slide of his fingertips down your legs sent tingles across your skin, but the delicate hold he put on each ankle to ease them out of the garment had your heart thumping. In this process his touch switched from tyrannical to reverent, making your mind sing with hope. That song only hit a great crescendo when he peppered the backs of your thighs with sweet and slow kisses.

As he rose back up and shoved the ruined cloth in his pocket, Beckman broke you both out of his worshiping trance by giving a playful and slightly mean nip to your left hip. You let out a little yelp despite yourself and he chuckled at the reaction, finding it absurdly cute. You shivered again at the throaty sound, nerves too easily tweaked from your potent anticipation. It only got worse when his hips found yours again.

Both of you moaned at the feeling of finally meeting skin to skin, immediately addicted to the wet heat and heady throb of each other. You sent your hips high with renewed vigor, spurred on by the need to chase more of the feeling of his thick cock against you. You were right about him being thick and long; his grinds spread your folds wide, exposing your entrance and clit to the sweet friction, and he laid across the length of your pelvis. It let him see the leaking red head of his cock peeking out from between your cheeks, the filthy image making his eyes roll back and an involuntary moan of “fuck, darlin’” growl out of him.

Beckman hooked his right arm around your front, nestling it as close to the tops of your thighs as he could get. It let him use your hip bones for stability in his hold, saving you from your weight crushing the limb into your stomach. The anticipation of feeling your legs bounce against his arm while he fucks you had him salivating.

He curled his arm, pulling your lower back flush to his abs. It made him take your weight, the toes of your shoes just barely scuffing the ground when you pointed them. You’d seen his insane strength before, but feeling it used on you had your body lighting on fire along with your cheering mind. Beckman’s other hand slid from your hip down and in on your thigh, spreading and lifting your leg until he was holding the inside of your knee out to the side. It left your cunt exposed to him, each grind of his further mixing your arousal with the pre-cum spreading down his cock.

“Hold that wall and keep your voice down,” Beckman instructed, “Unless you’re such a whore you need an audience.”

You let out a complaining moan at the harsh words but still writhed eagerly against him, unable to deny how they had you fluttering in anticipation. Your hands found purchase on the stone wall in front of you, giving you a sense of balance and security in your barely supported upper body. You were close to it so your arms were bent, allowing you strength and leverage. The force behind his grinds had you sure you’d need it.

Slowly and deliberately, Beckman slid his cock from root to tip between your slick folds, threatening you with his impressive length while he made sure he was properly coated. He only stalled the movement when his thick tip found its way down to your entrance. Unable to help himself, he ground a tight circle around it, groaning out a deep “fuck” at the feeling of your cunt trying its best to suck him in. You let out another keening moan, sounding vaguely like “please”, at the realization that his head was the perfect width to stretch you out right to the edge of your limits.

Angling his hips just right, Beckman followed the catch of your entrance to start forcing his way into you. You were right about the size of him; only his mushroomed tip was in and you already felt like your hips were being pressed wider. His achingly slow sink into you let you both feel every overwhelming bit of contact, every delicious rub of soaked skin on skin. Your mouth hung open, letting out appreciative moans, even though your attempts to hold them back left them clipped and jumbled.

Beckman had to shut his eyes and scrunch his brow to handle all the sensations flooding him. You felt so goddamn perfect wrapped around him. He felt somewhere in his being that you were made to be here with each other and force bliss from your pounding hearts and bodies. He finally fell to the call to curl as close to you as possible, his temple rested on yours, his stubble teasing your cheek, and stray gray hairs sweeping down to tickle your skin.

“So, so good, darlin’,” he praised breathlessly. He made it another inch into you, offering your cunt more firm flesh to clamp down on. “You feel better than a dream -nnngh- got the perfect pussy for me.”

An unrestrained moan tumbled past your lips at his praise, brain too empty and body too happy to care about anything anymore other than him and the feelings he brought out in you. The cheering and music from the bar was loud enough to lightly leak through the walls, so you wouldn’t have worried too much about attracting attention anyway.

He hadn’t prepped you any, but the abundant arousal sitting in your body so long loosened you up and made sure there was more than enough lubrication for him, especially with the addition of his own. His torturously slow press into you helped your body make room for him too. In fact, your pussy was so eager to open for him he felt like your walls were trying to suck him in quicker as they quaked and trembled around him. It made it near impossible to resist the urge to shove as deep into you as he could go, needing the hot grip of you around his aching cock and the pleasure of your plush ass and thighs pressed tight against his hips.

When he finally got there, you were both shaking and gasping. Your head felt light with the amount of bliss swimming through you at finally having him like this, held tightly in you while you shared your bodies. It also helped that he had you feeling so deliciously full; the press of him was potent enough to spread through your sides and up through your chest. It was the biggest stretch you’d taken but his size was just perfect, like he was built just to fit you and you him. The weight of his thick cock rested down towards your stomach, primed to massage your every favorite nerve.

“Just like that, darlin’,” Beckman groaned, starting his first pull back out of you. He continued with his slow speed to make you feel every ridge and vein in detail. Your favorite was the rim of his head dragging across your swollen walls. He sat that head just within your entrance and paused. “Bein’ such a good little slut.”

Right at the end of his praise, he shoved forward to fully sheathe himself back in you. The force of the thrust pressed the air from your lungs, creating a breathy moan, and gave you a taste of pleasure that had you certain that no matter how long he fucked you, you’d always want more of this potent bliss. You could live like this, fucked the rest of your life, just so long as he never stopped taking and touching you. He continued the strong and steady pace, needing to savor every second in your cunt, memorize every twitch and flutter. It had you whining, mind fraying under the threat of how much more he could give you.

“Beckman,” you moaned in frustration. “Give me more, I -ahhh- I need it.”

A punishing thrust had you feel him in your throat and your eyes rolled back in time with your high pitched moan. That moan turned into a rough whine when he stayed sat fully inside you instead of continuing. To tease you further, he began tight circles against you, making his pulsing cock play with every inch of your cunt, earning him a tight clench from you. This tantalizing rub continued as he moved to nip at your ear lobe.

“What did I say about making demands,” he warned, rumbling the words right against your ear. The puffs of his breaths shot goose bumps up your neck. He tilted his head down to tease his teeth over the flesh and continued his maddening little circles against you. With one leg trapped in his grip and the other barely reaching the ground, you had almost no leverage to work yourself back against him. Your abs burned with the effort as you tried to use your grip on the wall to stabilize yourself and grind back, but his iron grip was much stronger than any of your attempts.

You sobbed out a few needy moans at his continued meticulous playing with your body. Though you wanted so much more right away, that steady press of him waking up every inch of your insides was starting to build a pit deeper in your stomach than the one you were used to. Your mouth watered at the thought of what a full body high it could bring you but it felt so far away and you wanted to be smothered in pleasure now.

“Beckman,” you whined out, catching the way it made his breath hitch over your skin. “More, harder.”

Nothing changed and you were stuck spread open and suspended and at the mercy of his whims. It was the most deliciously frustrating thing you’d ever experienced, being forced to take the slow treatment. It made your body and mind agonize over every little sensation, every pulse and throb, every inch of you he reached that you’d never felt before. It made your ears take in the obscene sound of the little motions of his cock pushing drop after drop of your arousal out of your entrance to drip down his balls and your thigh. You flushed at how graphic it sounded, ears, face, and neck burning, especially with your combined heavy breaths and mixed moans and groans.

“You’re gonna have to try much harder than that, pretty little thing,” he goaded. You could hear the taunting condescension in his voice and you cursed the fact that it made your pussy spasm around him. The twitch of his cock that it earned inside you swelled your desperation to feel more from him until it swallowed your pride whole.

“Please,” you gasped, near truly sobbing in need. “Pleeeeease, fuck me harder, Beck, fuck me faster, please, just -hhhah- just need more.”

Beckman sucked harshly on your neck and set about answering your pleas. He changed right to fucking you fast and hard, making you yelp at the immediate flood of sensation. Your thigh and hips jumped in his grasp as you tried to take the onslaught. Every nerve in your pussy burned in the most beautiful way, emptying your head of any thoughts other than Beckman working your body into a quick frenzy. His teeth, lips, and tongue were decorating the sensitive skin of your neck; his hands and arm were clamped, making you feel blessedly trapped; his torso hovered on the back of yours, giving you brushes of his hard working muscles in motion; and his cock - his perfect cock - was bullying you open over and over and lighting every quaking inch of you ablaze.

Through your panting breaths and scattered moans, you could hear the wet slap of his hips against you, each impact making a little more arousal gush out of you. Being spread as you were also let his heavy balls tap against your clit with each hard thrust, ensuring every wired part of your pussy was seen to. You could barely form words but you were sure he caught the slurred praises you sent his way from how he echoed them back and kept adding more and more heat, pressure, grind, suck, and drag on you at your breathless moaning.

Stuck on the start of the encounter, he kept repeating a favored phrase to you - “So good, darlin’, such a good fucking slut”.

“Your slut,” you panted, “only -hnngh- yours.”

The pledge of ownership had his eyes rolling back and his mouth more ravenous against your skin. He needed to keep you locked to him forever, be on your skin forever, brand you as his, and have you mark him as yours.

“That’s right, darlin’,” he rasped, “only mine.”

He dropped your suspended thigh in favor of sinking a bruising grip into your hip. Your thighs clapped together with a wet smack, forcing a yelp from you as it jolted your clit. He placed an apologetic kiss on your shoulder and got right back to his tempo. The deep pressure he’d built with his deliberate grinding was now added to by every thrust, creating a shaking warning of the orgasm to come that sat from hip to hip and up to your ribs. It felt like he was fucking you just as deep, each drive of his cock seeming to replace the beating of your heart in your chest.

The new dancing on your toes had your calves, thighs, and abs working in sporadic clenches and twitches, the jerks and shifts causing pulses around your clit and into your trembling cunt. The new position made him feel all the wider as it let your labia relax around him and light up with delicious friction on each thrust in and pull out. The squeeze of your legs and muscles also put constant pressure on your clit, which Beckman would jostle with each forceful fuck into you.

All of it was getting to be too much and you were happily drowning under the rising tide of that threatening orgasm. It was swimming through your body so thoroughly you were sure you could feel each strong thrust pull pleasure from your very bones. Every piece of you that lived between your hips felt blinding white hot and pulsing and alive and so so very good.

The cherry on top of your euphoria were the pieces of the feeling you could hear echoed in Beckman. His voice was deep and groaning but also strained and fucked out as it whispered dark praises against your neck and shoulder. His breath was ragged and just as desperate as his touch, which was trying its best to permanently attach to your skin. His aching cock was just as responsive as your trembling pussy, dripping and twitching and jumping with each move and touch of your body.

Responding to the telling grip of your cunt clamping down constantly around him, Beckman slowed his pace slightly, focusing instead on the strength of each thrust and keeping his angle just right to drag you to your end. It accented the sound of each strong clap of his hips into yours and brought back clarity to the feeling of his thick cock spearing you. Your mouth hung open, panting and watering from the change of pace and unending pound and pull of him fucking your cunt into the shape of him.

“Beckman, Beckman, Beckman -ahh!- so cloooose,” you cried, voice thin and desperate. He cursed and moaned in response, the sound of you nearly making him lose himself and cum before you. He kept his pace pounding into you, each firm fuck lighting up your tightening walls and bouncing through your swollen folds and thighs to drum on your clit. Your head was swimming; despite your fast and canting breaths, you felt like you couldn't breathe, the air escaping you with each thrust beating a needy moan from your open mouth. The burn for oxygen only added to the tightly wound pleasure gripping you from throat to cunt, clawing tightest from your hips in, held steady between his sturdy hands.

Your toes and fingers tingled numbly in anticipation and shook just like the rest of you. Instinct tilted your hips just a degree higher, letting the tip of his dick tap just so against your cervix, ramping the overwhelming build even higher than you thought possible. Your moans yelped out sharper and higher amid sobs of “don’t stop, don’t stop, pleeeeease”, making Beckman groan and curse in his own mind-numbing arousal and frantic fight not to cum first.

A few more thrusts blazing across your cunt and shaking deep in your gut had the tension finally burst. You felt it first in the shot of electricity from your clit down to your toes and up to your buzzing head, before the tight pulse of your muscles took over everything. You writhed and shook against Beckman as he held you like a lifeline, trying desperately to fuck you through every second of heaven you could feel instead of following you over the edge. Each jerk and clench of your body gave you more and more bliss, the squeeze of you so tight and sure that it felt like there was only room for Beckman’s large cock in your body.

He couldn’t manage to pull even an inch out of your cunt, too weak to deny himself the bliss of feeling you cum, so he guided you through with shallow but heavy thrusts. Each tap on your cervix swelled you more and more until you weren’t sure if you had already cum or there was something else building on the other side of this endless screaming song in your nerves. Your answer came with the feeling of a snap that switched your cunt from long pulses into frantic milking down on Beckman’s jolting cock. Each squeeze was powerful enough to cause a full jerk and shudder of your hips, having you slip and grind in Beckman’s clawing hold on your hips.

“Fuck, darlin’, sweetheart, fu-uuuck, you’re too good, too much -ngah!- so goddamn perfect,” Beckman moaned out a stream of mindless praises while he shoved his forehead into the side of your neck, your only anchor in the torrent of sensation ripping through your body. After an eternity, your muscles and nerves began to relax, leaving your body feeling limp and heavy in the wake of your pleasure. You were positive nothing worked anymore except for your clit and cunt, both still drooling and twitching over Beckman’s shallow thrusts. You were thankful your closed legs kept the attention from overstimulating you fully. Beckam felt your body relax, getting an addicting sense of pride from fucking you into a limp puddle, and finally took to chasing his own pleasure.

“Need to see you,” he gasped, flipping you around and desperately pressing his twitching cock back into you. He shuddered at the relief, feeling ravenous and untethered every second he couldn’t be inside you. All his sanity was now held in the taste of your skin, the pleasure in your voice, and the sweet clench of your plush cunt. Pressing your foreheads together, he made it impossible to look anywhere but at each other. Even in the low light that managed to sneak between the buildings with you, Beckman’s silver eyes glowed while taking you in. The color looked sharper pressed thin by his lust-blown pupils and you were hypnotized as his gaze swallowed you whole.

Seeing the needy scrunch of his brows and the way he switched back and forth between clenching his jaw and hanging his mouth open to moan freely sent fresh sparks straight down to your clit. Having your legs spread around him had his racing thrusts teetering you on the edge of overstimulation, but it was well worth the sight and feeling of him rabidly chasing down his pleasure in your cunt. He was mindless and rutting in his need, enjoying your sopping heat contrasting with your nails scrabbling for purchase on his broad shoulders. The hug of your thighs around his waist kept him close and added to the wondrously tight clench of you that seemed to spread over his whole body. He was so, so close he just needed one little nudge.

“Beckman, please, need you -hahhn- need you to cum in me,” you begged, tone broken from all your moaning.

He was kicked right over the edge, barking out a deep “fuck” at the power of the orgasm shredding through him. He jerked his lips down to yours, holding you in an open mouthed kiss full of tongue and teeth and groans. He shoved himself as close as he could get to you, trapping you near painfully tight against the stone wall with his pressing bulk, demanding lips, and throbbing cock. His dick jumped hard with each pump of hot sticky cum deep in your cunt. It warmed you inside out and mixed with the heady knowledge that you’d completely unraveled this imposing man to unexpectedly drag you into a milder orgasm of your own. Each heavy jerk of him helped guide you through your own bliss, bodies working in perfect synch to have every pump answered with a coaxing squeeze. It kept you both suspended in your mindless heaven until you’d wrung every bit of pleasure from each other that your bodies could possibly give.

Beckman was certain that you’d sucked his very soul from him if the numb and clumsy feeling of his body was anything to go by. It wasn’t ready to listen to him, acting like it belonged to someone else and he supposed that was true; it was yours now. You’d held his heart a long time and his mind even longer, so it was only fitting that you owned his body too.

You didn’t seem to be doing much better with being in charge of your body, eyes half-lidded and lashes fluttering against the need to close. You were a vision - your foggy and affectionate gaze glued to him from under dark lashes, the flush tinting your sweat-damp skin, your lips parted and kiss-swollen, hair a wild crown around your head, decorating your face with stray strands. He studied and admired the image of you fucked-out and languid with eagerness and reverence. You were doing much the same, enjoying his mussed silver waves of soft locks, his gently shining eyes, the hints of red on the apples of his cheeks and his chest, the heavy rise and fall of his sculpted shoulders as he tried to catch his breath.

The sound of a drinking song spiking high in volume snuck through the wall and shattered your illusion of privacy. You were both suddenly back against the side of the bar instead of whatever pocket world you had carved out for just yourselves. Beckman continued to hold you steady as he slowly let your tired legs down, your skirt following after to hang back in place. Your legs shook under you like it was your first time standing and you laughed at their clumsiness. Beckman cracked a loving smile at you, stealing your breath and halting your chuckles. Again the melody within the bar seeped out to you clearly and you laughed even louder this time when you recognized one of Shanks’ favorite tunes. While he tucked himself away, Beckman raised a brow at your cackling until he recognized the song too and added his own gentle laughter to yours.

Looking him straight in the eyes, you fought to sing along properly through your bubbling giggles.

“I took that lass and smacked her ass

Said darlin you’re comin’ with me”

He took your hips and pulled you to him, guiding you in the closest to a swaying dance that your uncooperative legs would allow. He quietly joined you on the next lines, treating you to the deep and raspy parts of his voice that lived in his chest.

“Ain’t got a hall but we’ll use the wall

Just give me an hour or three”

“What do you say, darlin’?” Beckman asked with humor dancing in the light reflections in his eyes. There was a seriousness underlying his tone in his next question, however. “Willing to give me a few more hours?”

You gave him a sweet smile but turned it coy, your attitude sneaking back as your mind stabilized. “You’ve got one to convince me to keep you.”

Beckman huffed out a laugh at your bite coming back and leaned down to kiss your forehead affectionately. He took a moment to rest his cheek atop your head, breathing in the smell of your shampoo, delicately tinged with a touch of sweat and sex. It had him shiver and start to twitch back to life. Slowly, he trailed kisses from the top of your head to the tip of your ear. His warm breath made you shiver and begin to heat again as well.

“Sweet darlin’,” Beckman mumbled, lips tickling the rim of your ear, “I’ll have you back to begging for me in half the time. Gotta show you that I don’t just know how to fuck; I can worship.”

#beckman x reader #benn beckman #one piece #thirst hours #benn beckman x reader #beckman x you #beckman x y/n #x reader #fem reader #one piece smut #benn beckman smut #x reader smut #my writing

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greenbergwrites · 2 years

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Holy hell, YES. That sounds legit 👌🏻perfect👌🏻 if that works for you then it definitely works for me 🥹 *sobs in horny*

This did not come as easily as I hoped, because my brain wanted to think about a Daddy kink inspection scene instead *facepalm*

So, it might not be my best work, but I hope it's totally disappointing, Nani <3

Seduction was an art, but unfortunately, it was not an art that Steve knew. If he did, he would have a better plan than his current one. He would know how to arrange himself on the bed. He would know what words to say, where and how to touch his Alpha.

He knew none of these things. All he knew was desire, and the yearning that hadn’t stopped since he’d first scented James.

James.

His belly quivered at the thought of his Alpha, skin flushing hot. Steve bit back a shy smile, ignoring the heat in his cheeks as he slipped out of his clothes.

James was–perfect. An Alpha out of a fairytale. Strong and virile, his body broad and powerful. His presence commanding and his scent heavy, dominating, intoxicating. And even though he was strong, he did not use that strength to make Steve fear him. His touch was gentle, and his voice soft. He’d been sweet to Steve, attentive to his needs.

He was good.

So good, in fact, that Steve had been given his own room. It was an unwanted room, one that felt too much like rejection to be used. Instead, he had abandoned it and searched out his Alpha’s chambers.

Now, there he was. Undressing in a room he didn’t belong in and hoping that when he was found, he wouldn’t be in trouble.

Steve folded his tunic neatly, setting it down on a chair in the corner. When he was done, he went to his knees beside the bed. Blushing, he spread his legs wide, exposing his most intimate parts, and folded his hands neatly behind his back.

His time at the Omega hall had been short, but educational. The other Omegas there had been kind and taught him different ways of enticing his future Alpha. Most of their ploys were beyond him, seduction too advanced for someone so unpracticed. But he remembered this pose, and though he didn’t embody it quite as well as the Omega who’d shown him, it worked well for his purposes.

Closing his eyes, Steve bowed his head and took a deep breath. As he let it out, the tension in his body went with it, and he sank deeper into the pose. Relaxed and calm, he waited.

Time passed, but he wasn’t sure how much. It hardly mattered; he would wait all night for his Alpha.

Finally, he felt it–a presence outside the door. He shouldn’t have been able to know that. His senses were dull compared to the rest of their kind, and true to form, he hadn’t heard any voices or footsteps to alert him. But somehow, his body knew. They weren’t mated, but already, they were connected.

The door opened, proving him correct. There was a prolonged pause before it closed again. Steve didn’t open his eyes or lift his head. If James was upset by his presence, he didn’t want to see it yet.

There was movement in the room. Steve felt, rather than heard, his Alpha’s approach. When he was close enough to scent, Steve took in a shallow breath and then had to bite back a relieved moan. James wasn’t upset; he was aroused.

Steve blinked, opening his eyes but not lifting his head. James stood before him, bare feet within his sights.

“If I remember correctly,” his Alpha commented mildly, “you were given your own rooms, little one.”

Steve shivered. There was authority in his voice, even if it was still soft. There was authority in his scent, demanding obedience, but it needn’t have. This was his Alpha–the one who’d chosen him, and who Steve had chosen in return. He ached to submit and obey.

“Yes, Alpha,” he answered.

“Would you like to tell me why you’re here instead?”

Steve licked his lips. He had recited what he would say over and over again, but now that the moment was upon him, he was at a loss. He wanted too badly, his body flushed and aching, desperate for his Alpha’s touch.

“You–you didn’t inspect me, Alpha. To make sure you weren’t told any lies.”

It was a flimsy excuse, but it was all he had.

James was silent for so long that Steve thought he would refuse. If he did, Steve didn’t know what he would do; he didn’t know how else to get what he craved.

A heavy, broad hand passed over his hair.

“Look at me, pup.”

Slowly, Steve lifted his head. From this angle, his Alpha looked like a giant; one of the old gods made flesh. He would gladly worship, if only he was shown how.

James’ eyes glittered, heavy-lidded and dark with what Steve hoped was desire.

“Is that what you want?” James asked, petting him, his voice so gentle that Steve wanted to cry. No Alpha had ever treated him so preciously. “To be…inspected?”

Silently, Steve nodded. He didn’t just want it; he ached for it. Not just at the center of him–where molten need spilled over, wetting his hole and stiffening his stunted little cock–but everywhere. Every inch of him yearned for his Alpha’s attention, his touch.

“Do you understand what it means?” James’ fingers slid over his cheek, caressing his jaw. “What you’re asking me for?”

“Yes, Alpha,” Steve answered. He turned his head, sweetly kissing his Alpha’s palm. “Please. I…I want it.”

James’ touch lingered for a moment longer, before he pulled back, humming thoughtfully. When he turned away, Steve lurched forward, a desperate noise that he couldn’t stop bursting from him. He was ready to crawl after his Alpha, beg him to ease the ache inside, but at his noise, James turned back around.

“Back the way you were, little one,” he commanded gently.

It took a moment for Steve to get his body to cooperate. Slowly, he scooted back into position, his thighs spread and his hands behind him. There was none of the calm of before. His chest heaved with labored breaths, goosebumps spread over his skin. His nipples were peaked and hard, aching as acutely as the center of him, where he needed his Alpha’s touch the most. The very core of him trembled with want.

“Good boy,” James crooned. “Now stay just like that.”

In slow, methodical movements, he removed his clothes, until only a thin scrap of leather slung over his hips remained.

Steve whimpered, precum dripping from the tip of his cock.

His Alpha was so big. Not just tall, but broad and thick. Muscular arms and meaty legs, wide shoulders and a burly chest dusted in hair. Even the hidden parts of him, the bulge at the front of his leather tenting obscenely.

Steve couldn’t take his eyes away from it as James walked back to him. He craved, but he couldn’t even name what it was he wanted. He had no education in this area.

When his Alpha was once again before him, a large hand cupped the back of his head.

“Do you see something you like, my little one?” He asked, teasing. “My cock, perhaps?”

Heat licked at Steve’s insides, flushing his cheeks and making him shy. He nodded just once, marveling at his ability to do even that.

His Alpha hummed, petting him. The scent of his musk was thick, even with the leather between Steve and his most intimate parts. James was aroused, and the scent of it was addictive.

After a moment, his Alpha commanded, “Kiss it.”

Steve looked up quickly, his eyes wide. James smiled at him sweetly, rubbing the fine hairs at the base of Steve’s skull.

“Go on,” he said, gently. “Show me how much you want it. Kiss my cock, little one.”

Such vulgar words, but they thrilled some part of Steve that he’d been previously unaware of. Before he was even aware of his own movements, he’d leaned forward. Warm, smooth leather brushed his lips. Beneath that, something large and firm. Steve shuddered, his lower parts throbbing as he gently kissed the outline of his Alpha’s cock.

He’d barely lifted his lips before he lowered them again, kissing a different spot. He didn’t know why. Only that the instinct was there and he couldn’t help but give into it; he wanted to kiss along the bulge and so he did. Sweet, innocent kisses down one side of it, and up the other. His Alpha was still and silent the whole while, allowing him.

Tremors skated down his spine. He hungered. He craved. He wanted the leather removed so that he might feel skin beneath his lips.

Was this how he could worship his Alpha? He would, all night. Already, he would do anything to please the man before him. For James to find him worthy, and keep him.

Finally, when he had kissed every inch of the bulge, Steve sat back on his heels. His cheeks burned, the reality of what he’d done settling in once he was no longer in the moment.

James squeezed his neck, a gentle but firm touch.

“Good boy,” he murmured.

Steve looked up, his heart thudding against his ribcage. His Alpha looked so pleased with him, and those words—they burrowed into his belly, igniting a different, sharper pleasure.

Fingers brushed over his jaw and cheek as James withdrew his hand.

“Stay there,” his Alpha said. “I want to look at you.”

In much the same manner as he had earlier in the day, he walked a slow circle around Steve’s kneeling form. He was silent, his footsteps inaudible, but Steve didn’t need to hear them to know where he was. Even with his eyes closed, he would know. His Alpha’s presence was too compelling to ignore.

On his third circuit, James stopped at his back.

“Bend over for me, little one.”

Steve’s face burned, even as his cock pulsed with fresh heat. He knew what his Alpha wanted to see. Leaning over, he pressed his flushed cheek against the cool floor, arching his body until the most intimate part of him was exposed. The air on his hole only brought focus to how wet it was, how badly it ached for attention.

“Such a beautiful boy,” his Alpha praised. “And so obedient.”

There was movement behind him, and then the heat of another body so close to his own. Knees slid alongside his own and pushed out, widening his stance further. A heavy hand in the middle of his back kept him down.

Steve moaned, sinking deeper into the floor.

“So very obedient,” James murmured again, leaning down to kiss Steve’s spine. “Do you like obeying me, sweet boy?”

Steve trembled.

“Yes, Alpha,” he breathed.

James hummed, sounding pleased. For long moments, there was nothing but the touch of his large, warm hands. Sliding over Steve’s back, over his hips and thighs, his shoulders, petting his hair. There didn’t seem to be any purpose or method, only his own desire. The more he touched, the more the world slipped away. Nothing mattered outside of the feel of his Alpha’s body behind him, his calloused fingers gliding over Steve’s skin. Everywhere, but where Steve needed his touch the most. It was torture, but of the most magical kind.

Steve blinked sluggishly, his vision unfocused and hazy. Clumsily, he licked his lips.

“Do I please you, Alpha?” He asked, the words barely a whisper.

“Very, very much.”

James kissed his back again, this time near his side. With gentle hands, he guided Steve back onto his knees, his back pressed against his Alpha’s broad chest. Steve shivered, a new height of pleasure reached. He wasn’t sure he could take much more; his body didn’t seem equipped to hold the feelings that his Alpha inspired.

Warm lips kissed behind his ear, traveling slowly down his neck. Steve whined softly, turning his head toward his Alpha. James smiled at him tenderly, cupping his jaw.

“Have you ever been kissed, my little one?” He murmured gently.

Steve shook his head just once. He wanted to be good and answer with words, but he found they wouldn’t come. Such a simple question, yet it had stolen the breath from his lungs.

James hummed, tilting his head to brush his nose against Steve’s.

“Should I inspect that first?”

Before Steve could formulate a response, James bent his head and kissed him. It was light, gentle. A kiss that might have been considered chaste in any other circumstance. Their lips had barely parted before he was back again with another, somehow sweeter kiss. Again and again, kiss after kiss, each one a little longer than the last. A little deeper, a little filthier.

Steve didn’t even realize, until he found himself whining into his Alpha’s mouth, pushing too eagerly into it. His kisses were too quick and clumsy, too forceful, where James’ were languid and slow.

“Shhh,” his Alpha soothed, warm breath over Steve’s tingling lips. His thumb slid along Steve’s jaw. “Let me lead you, sweetheart.”

James kissed him again, gentle and coaxing. This time, Steve responded in kind, hesitantly mimicking each touch.

“That’s it,” his Alpha praised. “Such a good boy.”

His hands trailed down, exploring Steve’s chest as they traded slow, deep kisses. Caressing up and down his flank, over his sternum and down across his belly, almost to his cock before traveling back up again.

When calloused fingers brushed over his peaked nipples, Steve let out a ragged, eager moan. He felt, rather than saw, his Alpha’s lips curve into a smile. The touch lingered, circling his nipples, rubbing against each peaked bud. First featherlight and gentle, and then more firmly. Steve panted into his Alpha’s mouth, unable to stop himself from shamelessly pushing into the touches.

“So sensitive,” James teased softly, moving to kiss Steve’s jaw. “There is an old wives tale that says the more sensitive an Omega is, the more likely it is that he’ll produce milk in his heat. I wonder if that’s true, hmm? Have you had a heat, my little one?”

Steve shook his head.

“No,” he whispered shakily. “I-I’m sorry, Alpha.”

It had been a constant source of shame in his birth pack. An Omega of his age should’ve gone through at least one by now, and he’d experienced none. Just one more reason among many that he hadn’t been wanted.

“No apologies,” James admonished, lifting his head to kiss Steve’s temple. “You may never have one. It will not make you any more or any less mine. But one day, it may happen. I think that if you do, you’ll swell with milk. It would make for such a pretty sight, little tits to match such a little cock.”

One of his hands abandoned torturing Steve’s nipple to slide between his legs. He didn’t touch Steve’s aching cock, but instead lightly caressed the instead of his thigh. Steve trembled in his arms.

“Are you untouched there, too, sweetheart?” James asked. When Steve nods, he adds, “Even by your own hand?”

“Yes, Alpha,” Steve answered, his voice soft and distant to his own ears. “We–we weren’t allowed.”

James kissed the bridge of his nose.

“Touch it for me now.”

At first, Steve didn’t understand. He blinked hazily, trying to figure out if he’d misheard.

“Alpha?” He asked.

With a soft smile, James took one of Steve’s hands from around his neck and kissed his fingers.

“Have you forgotten already, little one?” He teased. “You asked that I inspect you, so that I know all of what I’ve been told is true. If you say you haven’t been kissed, I will test that. If you say that you are untouched by your own hand, I will test that, too. Now, be a good boy, and touch yourself.”

It was strange, touching his cock. It was even stranger, touching it for the first time while James’ chin was hooked over his shoulder, his Alpha watching his every move.

Steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d even had the urge to do this, the knowledge that it was forbidden so deeply ingrained that he wouldn’t have dared. But now his Alpha asked it of him, and Steve wanted to please him more than anything.

Hesitantly, he ran his fingertips over the short length of his cock. It throbbed eagerly, the heat in his groin spilling into his thighs, where his Alpha still touched him so gently.

“Stroke it, little one. Take yourself to orgasm for me.”

Steve moaned, quivering in his Alpha’s arms as he obeyed. At first, his grip was too loose, the light strokes as fulfilling as those first touches had been. And then, it was too tight, the movement of his hand almost painful. His cock pulsed in his grip, his body so close to release even from his own inexperienced touches.

“I can’t,” he cried, turning to press his face into his Alpha’s neck. “I can’t, I don’t know how. Please, Alpha.”

A rumble of pleasure vibrated Steve’s back as James rubbed his cheek over his head.

“Untouched,” his Alpha murmured, seemingly to himself. “Even by your own hand.”

His hand left Steve’s thigh, instead moving to cover Steve’s fingers over his little cock. He lifted his head, nuzzling against Steve’s ear.

“Loosen your grip, little one, that’s it. Such a good boy.”

Somehow, within seconds, James had shown him the perfect grip, tightening his hand around Steve’s just enough to give him what he needed. Their joined hands moved on his cock once, twice, and then Steve spilled with a choked cry.

James held him through it, kissing him sweetly and whispering soft praise as Steve shuddered in his arms. He didn’t stop the movement of their hands until Steve had given all that he could. In the aftermath, Steve was limp in his Alpha’s arms, shivering through the last dredges of the most intense pleasure he’d ever felt.

James licked their fingers clean, exuding pleasure and satisfaction despite the bulge that Steve could still feel at his back. When he was done, he scooped Steve into his arms and carried him to the bed.

His Alpha’s bed was large, the furs deliciously soft against his skin. Large hands guided him onto his belly, and Steve went easily. He was still shivering with the aftershocks of pleasure, malleable and hazy.

He didn’t realize what was happening, what his Alpha was doing. Guiding his body into a similar position as he’d been in on the floor, showing off his hole. Climbing into bed behind him, his large hands cupping Steve’s small ass.

And then, there was a tongue. It wasn’t shy or hesitant, but bold. Going after what it wanted, licking a stripe from Steve’s balls all the way to his little hole.

Steve cried out, fisting the bedsheets.

“A-Alpha,” he begged, but he didn’t even know what he was begging for.

In response, James only licked him again, and then again. Each one was smaller than the last, until his tongue was focused solely on Steve’s hole. Brushing over it again and again, lightly and then more firmly.

“So sweet,” his Alpha murmured, groaning softly. “I knew you would be. Gods, the way you taste.”

His mouth covered Steve’s hole completely, and then he sucked. Steve sobbed.

This wasn’t like the attention to his cock. This pleasure was deeper, somehow, more fulfilling. Already, he was hard again, stiff and aching, but he didn’t care at all about that. All he cared about was his Alpha’s mouth on his hole, the way every touch sparked electric shocks inside him.

And then, when Steve didn’t think it could be any better, his Alpha’s tongue sank into him. He buried his face into the furs and screamed.

The first thing to ever breach him, and it was his Alpha’s tongue.

James pulled away with a soft groan.

“So tight, my little one,” he whispered, his breath ghosting over sensitive skin. “Gods, how tight you are.”

The words were barely out before his tongue was impatiently pushing back into Steve’s hole. It fucked him slowly, indulgently. As if this were pleasure for him, too. If Steve were being honest, he didn’t even care if his Alpha liked this, too, so long as he didn’t stop. He found himself rocking back into it, chasing his Alpha’s tongue every time it pulled out of him.

“More,” he begged, his voice a weak, wavering thing. “More, please.”

It wasn’t deep enough. No matter how thoroughly it fucked him, it was never deep enough.

And then a finger joined his Alpha’s tongue. Steve’s thighs started to tremble. He would come. Just from this, a single finger inside him and James’ tongue eager licking around it.

“Alpha,” he whispered. “Alpha, I–I’m–Alpha–”

“No.”

A single word, but it was firm. All the authority his Alpha possessed, somehow shaped into a single word. As he said it, a hand wrapped around his cock and balls, squeezing too tightly. His impending orgasm eased. The finger inside him never stopped moving.

Confused, hurt little noises bubbled in Steve’s throat, and he looked over his shoulder. His Alpha’s gaze was a dark, heavy thing.

“No, little one,” he said, more gently, but still full of authority. “You’ve had your pleasure. Now, it’s time for mine. You won’t be allowed to come until I’m done, do you understand? When I’m ready for it, and not a second before.”

It was a promise that his Alpha kept.

With only his fingers and mouth, James drove him to the brink of madness. Licking and fucking his wet, aching hole, first with only one finger, and then with two. There was a spot deep inside, one that bestowed the most intense pleasure, and when his Alpha found it, he abused it mercilessly.

And every time Steve was on the edge of orgasm, his Alpha stopped it. It was heaven and hell. Steve never wanted it to end.

Tears spilled over his cheeks, and he wasn’t sure if it was the pleasure, or the agony of his denied orgasm.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he was rolled onto his side. His Alpha loomed over him, his eyes full of heat and his scent overpowering.

“Gods, look at you,” he murmured, raking his gaze over Steve’s bare body. “You’re perfect like this, my little one.”

His hands went to the leather at his hips, and removed it. Steve moaned. His Alpha’s cock was…mouthwatering. Large, like the rest of him. Long and fat, flushed deeply. The tip of it was swollen and wet, and Steve wanted to lick it. To taste his Alpha, as he’d been tasted.

James moved onto the bed, spooning in behind him. He gathered slick from Steve’s hole and rubbed it along his thighs, before scooting in close and slipping his cock between them.

“Press down tight,” he ordered softly, a heavy hand on Steve’s leg. “That’s it, pup. That’s perfect.”

Steve didn’t understand what was happening, not until the cock between his thighs began to move. He trembled, moaning. James’ arms wrapped around him, holding him tightly.

“My little one,” he crooned in Steve’s ear. He was breathless, his voice full of pleasure, but somehow, he was still in control. “Gods, how I want inside you. Since the moment I saw you laying in that bed. And then again, when you knelt before me and took my scent…gods, I wanted to topple you right there. Mount you on the floor like an untamed beast.”

Steve whined softly. God, he wanted it. He’d wanted it then, upon first meeting his Alpha, and he wanted it even more now.

“Please,” he whispered.

Teeth scraped over his neck. James grunted, fucking his thighs harder, faster.

“I’ll make you ache with my knot, my little one,” he promised. “But not tonight. Your body has to learn to accept me.”

James’ hand moved to his chest, fondling his nipples.

“I’ll mount you for days if you let me,” he whispered. “They might have to come pull me from on top of you. I’d fight them, and I’d win, just to mount you again as they watched. To feel your tight hole on my knot, to hear you cry with pleasure. I’ll fuck you until you forget what it was like to live without my cock inside you.”

James pinched his nipple, twisting as he commanded, “Come.”

Steve bowed under the onslaught, obeying his Alpha helplessly. He sobbed, drowning in pleasure. A hand wrapped around his cock, engulfing it completely. It milked him through his orgasm as James groaned behind him. Something hot and wet spilled on his thighs.

James fucked him through it, his thrusts turning slow and languid. When he finally stilled, his hips were flush against Steve. Something more than his Alpha’s cock, hot and large, lodged between his thighs.

His knot.

James kissed his neck.

“Hold it tight, my little one,” he whispered, “the way your body will when I finally put it inside you. It’s yours to satisfy now.”

Steve shuddered, moaning weakly. His body was limp and spent, unable to move. He’d never felt so good, so perfect, in his life.

“Yes, Alpha,” he mumbled, and obeyed.

#nani asks #greenberg replies #a/b/o dynamics #virgin steve #boy for sale

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