So, 2017 is going to be a big year for you and Tom: New house, Homecoming premiere, wedding planning, oh and there's that whole illegitimate daughter coming to visit. Not a damn thing could possibly go wrong! The sarcastic, sweet, and sexy saga con...
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"You can get to the bloody Crown Jewels easier than this," Tom muttered in frustration. His fingers frantically tried to unclasp your bra, but to no avail.
"Easy, Tiger," you scolded with a light smack on his bum, "you're going to rip-" but you were suddenly shut up with his mouth on yours in a fiery kiss. Bra be damned. Tom yanked the cups down and then took mouthful of tit with an insatiable need. Tom had always been a tit man. He was forever pinching and squeezing them at any chance he could get. One time at his parents for Sunday roast, he clearly forgot where he was for a moment. You were helping Nikki with the dishes and Tom came up behind you to honk your boob, complete with sound effects, like he was Herbie or something.
"Tom!" both you and Nikki yelled in unison. Tom fled from the kitchen, ears the color of crimson.
Nikki just shook her head and sighed with a small smile. "I should have bottle fed him."
But you weren't complaining, because those intensely hungry eyes locked on yours as his tongue rolled heatedly around your nipple. A single small bite made you jerk beneath him with a squeak. And that wicked grin that spread across his lips sealed the truth - you were in trouble. And oh boy, do we love trouble!
"Are you hungry, Tiger?" you asked with a breathy voice. His answer was a low growl against your neck, teeth grazing the flesh below your ear. You swiftly rolled him onto his back, straddling his waist with the grip of your thighs. His hands pawed at your hips, squeezing and caressing while he watched you easily slipped your bra off with a smirk. You twirled it above you're head and tossed it across the room. Tom watched you mesmerized. When those boy's eyes were on you like that, you felt like Cleopatra herself. Kingdoms will crumble, foes will be defeated and your little boy toy will be begging for mercy once you're through.
You leaned in for a quick and savage kiss. His fingers clamped on one of your breasts but you soon pulled away to run your tongue down his torso. You left a trail of saliva down his rippling stomach, making sure to take little nips along the way.
That gorgeous body tensed when you reached your target.
Hot breath trickled from your lips as you gazed at him. His eyes gleamed with lust as you slid your tongue all along his length. Slowly, he closed them with a moan, hips squirming beneath you.
You lathered your toy up nice and good, punctuating each pass of your tongue with a whimper or moan.
"Christ...," he groaned, placing a hand on your head, but you had something else in mind.
You released him with a loud pop and scooted up some to place his hands on both your breasts.
"Fancy a tit-wank Tiger?" you purred..
Tom enthusiastically nodded his head, a greedy grin smacked across his face. You smirked with satisfaction, loving this modicum of power you wielded over him.
You smashed your breasts together, enveloping his hard member in a soft pillow fort of fun and fornication. Slowly you slid up and down, up and down, watching the elation crawl across his face. Every peak of his tip elicited a teasing lick of your tongue.
"Fuck, Y/N...," he moaned as you bobbed faster. His hands reached out to hold onto something. Your shoulders seemed to suffice, but instead he quickly pulled you on top of him, ravishing your lips with his.
You laughed at his eagerness and frankly just having him consume you like this was the best distraction from your grief.
But shit can never stay sexy, can it, Y/N?
Suddenly your bad knee locked in excruciating pain.
"Ow! Fuck!" you howled. It made you seize up in mid melon massage. You gasped and grunted and scrunched your eyes tighty waiting for it to pass. But Tom must have enjoyed himself too much because...
"Oh fuck, Y/N!" he echoed you, giving a final jerk. You eyes popped open and watched the most beautiful flash of bliss you've seen until-
SPLAT!
You flinched as Tiger's baby batter plastered all over your face. And goddam the volume of it- , had he been saving up for months or something?
His hands covered his mouth in horror.
"Shit, I'm sor - I'm so sorry," he stammered, wide eyed, "You just - oh shit it's in your hair too," he started cackling and pointing.
You sat there in a fuming frozen state while his filthy facial clung to your nose, eyelashes and evidently hair.
"Tom," you said with startling quiet. He shut up immediately. Your calm tone was like that of a woman on the verge. Like those stories you hear about wives snapping and murdering their husbands with a cool smile on their face. Then they sit down with their children for a nice meal of homemade meatloaf and mashed potatoes, all the while daddy is neatly stuffed in the freezer.
So, you know, a borderline homicidal tone. Tom, in all his cleverness, picked up on it rather quickly.
"Don't move!" he held his hands up as if to stop you.
"Tommmm," you grumbled annoyed. This punk's spunk was starting to drip.
"I'll get a towel," he sprang from the bed, pantless, careening towards the sink. His socks still on, slid him back to you with the ease
"You know, you could really pass for Mrs. Doubtfire like that," he joked, wiping a warm, wet towel across your face, "all frosted up."
Your eyes narrowed at him, but that sneaking smile started to creep across your face.
"Come on, just say it with me - 'Hellooooo'!" he sang, matching Robin Williams to perfection. He coaxed that lingering laugh from you and before you could even protest, you had to resign with a giggle.
"That is the last tit-wank you'll ever get, you ass," you muttered with a smile.
"Aw, come on, darling," he kissed your nose sweetly, "it was just a drive by splooging!"
"I hate you," you huffed, wiping your nose along Tom's toned shoulder, but not before placing a sweet kiss in the exact same spot. God love him. He did his best to keep your spirits high, no matter what.
"No, you love me," he countered with a winning grin. You continued to press your lips in the same spot, fighting the whys, what if's, and hows. You did love him and no amount of grief or ineptitude or sorrow would void that. Tom Holland was your constant and that simply was enough.
