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daydreamtofiction · 2 years

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The Feature X // Benedict Cumberbatch x Reader

Series Overview | Previous Part | Next Part

Chapter Summary: Ben wants to make it up you. But after a night of pure pleasure comes a stark, unwelcome morning.

Chapter Word Count: 5K

Chapter Warnings: Morally-grey reader, strong language, explicit sexual descriptions, smut: unprotected/protected sex, oral sex, fingering, praise, multiples/overstimulation(?). Readers must be 18+

A/N: With the descriptions of ‘unprotected’ sex and some of the discussions had by the characters in this chapter, I feel it necessary to reiterate the fact that this is a deeply, passionately pro-choice space. Abortion is a right not a privilege; for anyone, for any reason.

Reader Tag List: @blondekel77 @evelynrosestuff @bakerstreethound @annesthaeticc @aephereal @sharp-cheekbones-locked @sherlux @veryladyqueen @graciebear47 @allurenia @jamerlynn @cottagecore-cat @aysamuka @thegardenerofeden @cumbercatchmebaby @inspirationalandrandom @turkisherlockian @swds @weepingdreamerpanda @elzabethann @childofgod215 @lonadane @briecantopme @lovecleastrange @jaspearl31 @paola-carter @greatburger @azu21 @xourownsidee @hunterofshadows04 @asgardianprincess1050

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Ben took you by the hand and led you out of the study. You felt your breath shallowing as you walked with him towards the stairs, your stomach fluttering with nerves, as if your neck wasn't already decorated with the aftermath of his kisses, your thighs not already marked by his fingertips.

The first time had been quick; an explosion of pent up frustration against the front door you'd barely made it through. There had been no time to think it over, no time to consider what either of your intentions were; what it meant or what would come after. Only now were those thoughts beginning to seep in. Not in doubt, but in an uncharacteristic shyness.

You stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned to face him, taking a moment to ground yourself by pulling him into a deep, yearning kiss. You could taste the burn of alcohol on his tongue, feel his need as he hummed in approval and slid his hands around your waist to hold you close. It was enough to melt your reserve; leaving you a pool of impulse and desire in his arms.

His enthusiasm began to intensify, his body pressing against yours and encouraging you to move back onto the staircase. You followed his lead, trusting his hands to keep you steady as they roamed your lower back. The first step almost brought you to his height, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck with more ease, pressing your chest flush against his.

You let out a gentle gasp as his hands moved to your hips, gripping them firmly as he began to guide you backwards up the stairs. You kept your arms wrapped around him as he pushed you up each step, his hold on you strong, like he was practically carrying you. He moaned softly as he began to trail hot, impatient kisses over your neck, revelling in the taste of your skin. You couldn't remember another time when you'd felt so desired.

You were almost at the top of the stairs, and though it couldn't have been more than thirty seconds since you began your ascent, the eagerness in your belly made it feel like forever. You wanted to hurry up and get there, to have him fulfil his promise of making it up to you; 'next time, the time after that, however many times you want.'

"Not to ruin the mood, Ben," you said breathlessly. "But there's old people out there with stairlifts quicker than this."

The laughter came out of him like he hadn't felt it coming; escaping through his nose with a snort and distracting him just long enough to make him lose his footing. He fell forward, toppling onto you as you landed with your back against the steps.

There was a look of fear on his face, but it slowly melted away once he saw you were laughing, legs wrapped around his waist, hands gripping the spindles of the banister. He laughed too, resting his forehead against yours.

"That was your fault," he said.

"Yeah?" you giggled, tilting your head up and catching his lips in a kiss.

'"Yeah." He kissed you back. "That mouth of yours. Lethal."

"Mm, you're not the first person to tell me that."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Ooh, was that a speck of jealousy?" you teased.

"Why would I be jealous? I'm the one between your legs."

Touché, you thought, welcoming another kiss - a harder, hungrier kiss that made you remember exactly why you'd been heading upstairs in the first place.

You could feel his desire. Not just in the way he kissed you, but in the rigid length beneath his trousers. You arched up against it, a deep groan pouring from his mouth into yours. He swept one of his large hands up your thigh beneath your dress, his elegant fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You whimpered softly against his lips as his hand travelled further inwards, journeying to the place that still craved him.

"Up," he said sternly. "I want to actually make it to the bedroom this time."

He pulled you to your feet impatiently, almost growling the command. You liked it, wished you could save the sound and play it on a loop.

His hands never broke contact with your body, his chest against your back, lips on the back of your shoulder, teeth nipping at your neck as you rushed along the landing to his room. You fumbled clumsily with the door handle, and though it was just for a moment, you could feel the impatience growing between you, certain that if he hadn't instructed you to get up, you would have never made it off the stairs.

The door swung open and you turned to face him, stumbling back through the dark room towards the bed as his mouth found yours again, kissing you as he brought a hand to the side of your neck, his thumb caressing the pulse beneath your skin.

"I just have one small request," he whispered against your lips.

"Depends what it is."

He rolled his eyes, pausing as he slid down the straps of your dress, pressing fresh kisses to the bruises he'd already left along your collarbone.

"I need you to not be too loud," he finally said.

A breathy laugh escaped the corner of your mouth. "Bit presumptuous of you, isn't it? What makes you think you'll be getting any noise from me at all?"

"Because I'm going to fuck you," he said bluntly, matter-of-factly, as he pushed you back onto the bed. "Properly this time."

You kept your eyes on him, the sarcastic smirk wiped clean from your face as you leaned back on your elbows, watching him unbuttoning his shirt.

"None of that rushed, nervous mess like downstairs." He threw the shirt to the ground and moved on to his trousers. "This time, I plan to leave you so thoroughly fucked that you lose the ability to talk back to me."

Your throat suddenly felt dry, your breath becoming uneven. "That's ambitious..."

He dropped his head and let out a quiet chuckle as he removed his shoes and socks, letting his trousers and underwear fall to the ground and kicking them aside.

You took a moment to admire the sight before you; the tanned, freckled skin that sat taut over his broad chest, the defined arms and surprisingly muscled torso. It made you wonder how you'd spent so many years ignoring this man's existence. How whenever you saw him on screen or in the pages of magazines, you had somehow managed to avoid the allure that so many others around the world fell victim to.

He knelt at the foot of the bed between your legs, leaning forward to kiss you as one of his hands slowly moved up your thigh, taking your dress with it until it was bunched up near your hips.

"Do I actually need to be careful taking this off?" he asked.

"No," you replied with a breathy laugh, confounded by the charm in his consideration.

"Good."

He tugged at it impatiently. You arched your back and raised your arms above your head, allowing him to remove the dress from you in one swift motion, turning it inside out as he peeled it from your body. There was a slight chill in the room you hadn't noticed until now. It danced over your skin as you lay beneath him; exposed, unguarded, the softest and most intimate parts of yourself laid bare for him to seize.

You gasped softly as his warm hands made contact with your cold skin, the contrast so stark that you were sure his palms could sear brandings into your flesh.

"So perfect," he whispered, his fingers ghosting over the curve of your hips.

You slid your arms around his back and pulled him down, welcoming his full weight on top of you as you pressed your lips to his ear, nipping the lobe between your teeth before soothing the sting with a kiss. The sound that poured out of him was delicious; deep and throaty, travelling straight to your core and resonating there.

His mouth returned to you swiftly, leaving licks and kisses over your goose-bumped skin as he travelled south, taking detours on his journey to explore the planes of your body. His hands gripped the soft flesh of your breasts as he drew their firm peaks into his mouth one-by-one, sucking gently until you hissed in pleasure, your hands taking root his hair and tugging on whatever your fingers could attach themselves to. He groaned in response and pushed himself roughly against you, only your thin, lace underwear separating you from the thick, hard length he'd vowed to fuck you with.

He continued his descent towards your aching centre, dragging his tongue down your stomach, your skin tingling as the cool air made contact with the hot trail his mouth left behind.

"Can I tell you something?" His voice murmured against your hip.

"Mhm," you hummed.

"The second I met you, I wanted to do this."

You felt his weight shift on the bed, his hands gently parting your legs.

"I don't mean the sex," he continued, pausing every few moments to lay kisses on your inner thighs as he dragged down your underwear. "I mean this, specifically. I wanted to taste you."

His voice sent a ripple through your stomach, spreading to every part of you and forcing a yearning sigh from your lungs. You opened your mouth to speak, but he didn't give you a chance. Instead he buried his face between your thighs, lapping you up with no hesitation.

You threw your head back at the feeling of his tongue circling your clit, letting out a heavy, unexpected moan. You reached down instinctively and ran a hand through his hair, guiding his head deeper between your legs until they began to shake.

"Oh, fucking hell," you groaned.

This man had captivated the world with his tongue; the precision with which he spoke, the rich tones of his voice, the screen kisses that left viewers weak and blushing. This tongue already had the world at his mercy. If only that world knew the extent of what he could do with it, you thought, you were sure he'd be able to conquer it completely.

You felt the familiar rush of electricity, the swell rising through your stomach and dancing along every nerve as he pressed and stroked, swirled and sucked, completely devouring you like he'd been created just for you - to do nothing else but this - and you understood now why he'd asked you not to be too loud.

You were panting and moaning, swear words falling from your mouth in whimpers and cries as he continued to coax the climax from your core like he was stealing it from you. Your hips were writhing with pleasure, your fingers moving out of his hair to the bedding beneath you, clutching it desperately.

"Oh my god," you cried out. "Fuck!"

He pulled away just as you felt yourself approaching the edge, and for a moment you thought he was going to leave you there, hanging on just like the last time, begging him to push you over. But then you heard him; shushing you softly, like he was soothing you, coddling you. Like he knew exactly what he was doing to you, and he was encouraging you to take every last bit of it.

He pressed a lazy kiss against your clit before sliding two long fingers into you, curling and stroking the exact spot that instantly turned you into a squirming, quivering mess. You cried out and arched your back. He wrapped an arm over your stomach in response, pinning you back down against the bed as he worked his fingers at a relentless pace and returned his mouth to your centre.

You glanced down at the arm keeping you still, the hand still adorned with a shining, golden wedding band. You couldn't help but run your thumb over it, turning it slightly on his finger. He stopped what he was doing, pulling back to speak.

"Shit, sorry, I'll take it off."

"No," you replied quickly. "Keep it on."

He furrowed his brow.

"It's sexy..."

"The ring, or what it represents?"

You rolled your eyes. "So the reminder that you're married might turn me on a bit. I'm a terrible person, alright, you already knew that."

"You're not a terrible person," he said quietly, pressing his lips to your inner thigh and biting the sensitive skin there. "You are trouble, though."

He slid his fingers back into you and you almost came from the sensation, fluttering on the edge of an orgasm before he'd even begun to move them.

"Mm, I felt that," he growled. "You're close."

You let your head fall back as you felt his mouth on you again, eating you out so perfectly as he worked his fingers in and out of your body. He hummed in approval and you began to see stars in the periphery of your vision.

"Fuck," you cried.

You had never been so loud, so vocal. You'd even laughed at him when he asked you to stay quiet. Yet now, your voice was betraying you.

"Oh god, so close," you whimpered. "So close, so close, so- Fuck, Ben!"

He growled at the sound of his name, pushing his mouth deeper, harder against your soaking centre, curling his fingers against the place that made the air vanish from your lungs.

It didn't take much longer for you to fall apart around him, moaning and whimpering as you writhed your hips, riding out the intense, electric waves of your climax. You didn't realise you were still mewling until you felt one of his hands reach up and grip your throat, stifling the noise as he shushed you again.

He crawled up your body, bringing you face to face. "Remember when I asked you not to be too loud?" he purred. "That's because I have very nosy neighbours, who probably just heard that entire thing."

"Sorry," you replied in a breathless whisper. "Sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry-"

A smile curled the corner of his mouth as he looked down at you. "Have I broken you already?"

You quickly regained some composure, stubbornness setting back in as you took his face in your hands and kissed him, tasting yourself on his lips before drawing the bottom one into your mouth and biting on it. He winced, pulling away from you with a deep, guttural groan, the softest fleck of amusement in the corner of his mouth.

You leant up to kiss his neck, revelling in the sounds escaping him as you began to suck on the smooth, delicious skin near his throat.

He pulled away quickly. "If I'm seen with a love bite, I'm finished."

"What about a hidden one?" you mumbled as you began to press hot, gentle kisses down his chest.

"Don't you dare."

He was rocking his hips as he lay between your legs, his hard, unsheathed cock rubbing against your sensitive clit. He was teasing you, relishing the breathy, needy whimpers escaping your lips with every lazy stroke. The sensation was irresistible, the head of his cock hot and heavy as it swept back and forth along your slick folds. You bucked your hips, accidentally catching him at an angle that allowed his length to slip inside you.

You both gasped in a mixture of shock and pleasure; the feeling of him, raw and uncovered within you, undeniably exquisite.

"Shit," he hissed, lowering his forehead to your shoulder and stilling himself for a moment.

You expected him to pull out. But instead he lifted his head to look at you, breathing heavily before sinking himself further into you, deep and slow, until he was bottomed out inside you; the feeling so intense you could barely breathe.

"I told you you were dangerous," he said in a low, gritty voice.

"Hurricanes usually are," you replied.

His eyes seemed to change, as if the storm existed within them. He drew his hips back and snapped them forward, sending a shockwave through your belly, your eyelids fluttering with the threat of another orgasm.

He repeated the action, over and over again until he was pounding the living daylights out of you, keeping his promise to steal your ability to answer back, inadvertently stealing your ability to say anything at all. You were a mumbling, whimpering mess, your fingers clawing at his back, thighs aching from being spread apart beneath him.

"Fuck, Quinn," he growled through gritted teeth.

And you knew he could feel your walls tightening around him, pulsating with the swell of another approaching climax.

"So tight," he continued, letting the words gush into the crook of your neck. "You feel- So. Fucking. Good."

You clamped a hand over your mouth as your orgasm ripped through you, pulling you apart with an overwhelming heat. Ben groaned at the feeling of you coming undone, throbbing around his cock as he continued to move, drawing every last drop of pleasure from your body. He gave a garbled moan, his rhythm faltering until he finally pulled out and came between your thighs, the warmth of his release spilling down your throbbing centre onto the sheets below.

You were spent; breathless and aching, no longer bothered by the cool air of the bedroom. Ben collapsed at your side, the pair of you lying in the middle of the bed staring up at the ceiling. It was quiet for a while, the only sound coming from your laboured breaths as they slowly began to even out.

"That was really stupid of us, wasn't it," he said.

"Hm, don't know." You turned your head to look up at him and shrugged. "I mean, I hear the pull-out method's like... sometimes effective."

Even through the darkness, you could tell he was looking at you in fear.

You pursed your lips, but eventually began to laugh. "I'm joking!"

He didn't seem convinced.

"I swear. Honestly I'm joking. I have the implant, look." You sat up and took his hand, pressing two of his fingers to the inside of your upper arm, letting him feel the small bar beneath your skin. "And I'm clean too, obviously. I mean, I don't have proof of that but I'm sure I could get you my medical records if you really needed me to..."

He rolled his eyes with a smile. "Don't be stupid, I trust you."

You stared down at him.

"What?"

"Nothing." You shook your head. "It's just... After everything that's happened, it's nice to hear you say those words."

He smiled, pulling you down to rest your head on his chest. "I'm clean too, by the way."

"Phew," you replied sarcastically.

It fell silent again, comfortable, relaxing, as he drew swirls with his fingers over your back, his leg tangled between yours.

"Let me feel it again," he said, reaching for your arm.

You let him press his fingers to the inside of your arm again. He grimaced, making you giggle and swat his hand away gently.

"Do you want children?" he asked.

"Fucking hell, Ben. Your whole life flashed before your eyes two seconds ago, and now you're trying to get me pregnant."

"No," he laughed. "I'm not, of course I'm not. It just made me wonder if that's something you'd ever thought about." He looked down at you. "It's called 'getting to know you', Quinn. It's what people do."

You rolled your eyes. "I don't know. It's never really crossed my mind."

"Never?"

You shrugged. "Well I can't say I've ever met someone and thought 'god, I'd just love to mix our DNA together and bake it in my womb for nine months.'"

He laughed. "That mouth again. Such a way with words."

"Speaking of words.... I still have those questions."

"Go on, hit me."

"Well, the first one was how do you feel about... moving on. What does the future of dating and romance looks like for Benedict Cumberbatch."

You both smiled at the irony of the question, laughing quietly together.

He sat up slowly, turning his body to face you. "My future looks... interesting."

"I need more than that."

He smirked, thinking for a moment. "How I feel about moving on is... scared, uncertain, but ultimately optimistic. Of course I have goals for where I want to be personally in, say, five years. But I'm not going to force myself to hit them."

"Why?"

"Because life has a very interesting way of throwing curveballs."

"Hurricanes," you smirked.

He laughed deep in his throat. "Can I ask you a question?"

"You always do."

"When you look at me, do you see me? Or do you see Benedict the famous person?"

You pondered for a moment. "I see you. But then... every now and again, I'll get hit with this sudden realisation of who you are, and then nothing feels real for a while."

"Does this feel real?"

You nodded softly, but you were unsure if you actually believed yourself.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He convinced you stay, pulling you back into bed whenever you tried to get up and leave. You didn't really want to leave, secretly glad whenever you'd feel his reluctance to let you go. You showered in his ensuite bathroom, though the act proved entirely futile when you returned to find him ready and waiting to have you again.

You slept soundly after that; exhausted, bruised and thoroughly satiated. You would wake throughout the night, forgetting for a split second where you were before feeling him beside you, letting out a sigh and nuzzling in close to him, listening to the breath rumbling in his chest.

You began to stir to the sounds of birds outside, dawn seeping in through the window with a golden glow. You felt Ben turn, his arms wrapping around you, his body pressed against your back. He was grumbling in his sleep, a gentle, rhythmic wheeze escaping his nose. You smiled and nestled your head back against him, laying your arms over his.

He began to wake slowly, kissing the back of your shoulder. You turned your head and he shifted slightly, kissing your jaw, your cheek and squeezing you tight in his arms.

"How did you sleep?" he croaked.

"Good."

You could feel his arousal in your lower back. You were still aching from last night, but somehow the feeling of him made you crave more. He leaned over to kiss you but you turned your head to avoid it.

"Ugh don't kiss me. Morning breath."

He laughed sleepily. "I don't care."

He placed a hand on your face and pulled you towards him to kiss you. You turned onto your back, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and parting your legs for him to lie between them. He rolled on top of you and pulled the duvet up over his back, shielding you both from the morning chill as he kissed your neck, reaching down and guiding his cock into you as if he belonged there.

You moaned languidly and he sighed against your neck as he began to move in slow, sleepy thrusts; not chasing an orgasm or satisfying an impulse, just connecting with you, waking up with you in the most delicious, intimate way.

The duvet slid down and you ran your hands over his bare back, feeling the goosebumps as they began to rise on his skin. You parted your thighs wider, bringing your knees up to allow him to sink deeper, making you both groan at the same time. He took your hands off his back and weaved his fingers through yours, pinning them gently above your head, holding them there as he stroked into you, forehead resting against yours.

There was a shuffling followed by a creak, the bedroom door opening suddenly across the room. You stopped immediately, your heart almost jumping out of your chest in fright as Ben glanced over his shoulder to see his ex wife standing in the doorway. She looked stunned.

So did he.

He pulled out of you and jumped up quickly. So quickly, you weren't sure you'd ever seen another human being move so fast.

"Jesus, Faye! You can't just stroll in here like that-"

"Wow." She breathed, tongue pressed to the inside of her cheek. "You move on quick."

You rolled your eyes, pulling the duvet up to cover your chest.

"What are you doing here!?" he shouted, scrambling to pull on a pair of trousers.

"I needed to go over some things with you and you gave me a key, so-"

"Yeah, so you could come and check on the house for me when I wasn't here, not to let yourself in whenever you please!"

"Well now I know why," said Faye, nodding towards you.

You couldn't help but laugh to yourself; at the feigned outrage, the performance of a woman scorned. You slipped out of bed and grabbed your dress, turning your back to her and pulling it quickly over your head.

Faye scoffed at you. "I'm not sure what's so funny about me walking in on my husband with another woman before our divorce is even finalised…"

You giggled and turned to Ben. "Ever thought about getting her into acting?"

He pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh.

"Excuse me?" she said.

"Faye, it's okay," Ben sighed. "She knows. About this, about us, she knows."

"What?"

"It's fine," you said, pulling your dress down over your hips and turning towards her. "It's cool, honestly, I'm not going to say anything-"

"Yeah, too right you're not going to fucking say anything." She marched towards you, teeth gritted angrily.

"Whoa," said Ben. "Faye!"

Her narrowed eyes began to widen as she regarded your dress; her gaze trailing up from your body to your face, her back straightening in realisation as she stopped approaching you.

"You're the journalist who spilled my drink," she finally said, almost whispering. "Last night… You-"

"Yeah that was me," you sighed. "But there's more to this than-"

"Are you stupid, Ben!?" She turned to him, pushing him in the chest. "There's an NDA in that contract for a reason! It's not even been two weeks and you've already blabbed to the first slut who let you stick your dick in her!"

"Hey!" you shouted.

"And not just a slut but a fucking journalist!" She shook her head at you before looking back at Ben, tears welling in her eyes. "You just couldn't wait, could you."

He sighed. "Faye, I wouldn't have told her if I didn't trust her-"

"You know that's not what I'm talking about."

You furrowed your brow as you saw her eyes flit to the messy bed, the genuine hurt in her face.

"Look, I'll call you later, okay?" said Ben.

"You're kicking me out…?"

He pushed his fingers into his eyes. "No, I'm not- just- this obviously isn't a good time."

"Obviously."

"I can go…" you said.

"No," he said quickly. "You stay here. Faye, come on I'll walk you out."

He led her out of the room and you exhaled slowly, surprised by the quiver in your breath. You sat on the bed, listening to their footsteps as they descended the stairs, the hum of their voices through the floor. After a few minutes, he returned; flustered, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I'm so sorry," he said, sitting down next to you.

"I thought you said your relationship was just business?"

"It was…"

"Really? Because that woman is very clearly in love with you."

"What? No." He shook his head dismissively. "Faye and I, we really are friends. We care about each other a lot. It doesn't mean she's in love with me."

"Did you not see her face?"

"I think anyone'd be mortified walking in on that."

You shook your head. "That wasn't the face of someone who felt embarrassed. That was the face of someone who just walked in on the love of their life balls deep in another woman."

He rolled his eyes. "Your use of the English language never ceases to amaze me."

"She was devastated, Ben."

He huffed, as if he still didn't believe you.

"Tell me, who was the first one to actually suggest divorce?"

"Me."

"And let me guess, when you did suggest it, her response was something along the lines of 'yeah, I've totally been thinking the same thing'," you said in a mockingly sweet voice. "I bet through this entire process it's felt like she's been dragging her feet, hasn't it? And when you began legal proceedings, it was always your team reaching out to hers, waiting to hear back, having to chase up responses…"

He stared at you.

"I'd put money on her coming here today hoping to make you reconsider."

"That's ridiculous." He scoffed. "We were in almost constant contact for two years and she never ever eluded to having feelings for me."

"Didn't she? Or did you just not notice?"

"She told me to my face she wanted to move on, meet someone, have babies-"

"Yeah. She doesn't just want babies, Ben, she wants your babies."

He thought for a moment before letting out a groan and pinching the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb. "Well it doesn't matter either way. She knew where we stood when we got into this."

"And then you slept with her…"

He glared at you, dropping his gaze after a moment and sighing.

"And if the night you spent with her was anything like last night, I'm not surprised she fell in love you."

He laughed softly to himself. "Are you falling in love with me, Quinn?" he teased.

You rolled your eyes with a smile. "I don't do love, Benny."

You stood up, wandering around the room in search of your underwear.

"And I have to go," you continued. "My deadline's today."

"Do you want me to drive you to work? I can take you home first to get changed."

"No don't worry, clearly you have a lot of… shit to deal with." You walked up to him, standing between his parted legs and placing your hands on his shoulders.

You leant down to give him a peck, but instead he pulled you into a deep, hot kiss.

"So…" he whispered against your lips. "I'm flying out to LA tonight."

You didn't reply.

"And I'll be there for two weeks…"

Your heart sank, but you pretended it didn't bother you. "Well I hope you have a nice time."

You turned to walk away but he pulled you back against him with a laugh, his hands on your backside.

"Can I see you when I get back?" he asked.

"Hm, I don't know. Two weeks is a long time and I get bored easily, remember?"

He squeezed your bum and growled playfully.

You laughed and gave a small huff. "Yes. I'll be... anxiously awaiting your call."

He smirked and let you go, watching as you continued to pace the room. "Quinn…"

"Yes?"

"Your knickers are over here under the bed."

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