To The Beat // t.h.

12

You opened it. There stood Tom. He didn't even hide the way he was checking you out. In only a bra and panties, there was little you could hide behind, but you tried to fight the insecurities.

"Fuck, you're perfect." He said before striding your way. Grabbing on to you, he kissed you passionately. You felt his hand in your hair, so you mimicked it. For the rest, you had no idea what was going on since you had closed your eyes. You let all the other senses speak for themself—his soft but harsh touch; the way you could still smell the rain on him—the sweet taste of honey and tea on his lips. You could hear the little grunts and whimpers escape the both of you as he slammed you against the door with a thud.

Then he grabbed your leg, signally for you to jump. You did without hesitation. Arms around his neck, fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck. You kissed him feverishly. The fact that he was holding you up with only one hand hadn't even caught up to you. The hand that was leaning against the door next to your face was not even registered by your addled brain yet.

Feeling the need for air again, you pulled away. Your foreheads were leaning against each other as you both inhaled deeply.

"What happened to fucking my mouth, Tommy?" You quipped. Tom was staring down, looking at how your chest heaved deeply with every breath.

"Would take too long," he said, now looking up into your eyes. "I thought it would be better to just straight up start with your sweet little cunt." He growled into your ear. Before you could say anything in response, he kissed you again.

His words were still spinning around in your head as he pushed the two of you away from the wall and carried you across the room to the bed. You could feel his erection against you, hard as a fucking rock. Why did you pull away from him on the couch?

He put his knee on the mattress before letting you drop. It made you think back to just a few hours ago, how you had fallen down on to your own bed, contemplating whether or not to go to some dumb concert... now look at you.

Your head touched the soft bedding, but your legs were still around Tom's middle. He grabbed your legs and spread them just the right way so he could lean closer to you.

"You look so fucking hot, right now." He groaned as his teeth grazed your neck, making you arch your back. He pinned you back down on the bed.

"Seeing you in that crowd, you know how hard it was for me to concentrate?" At this point, he had your arms above your head, holding them tightly. He kissed your jawline and moved up to your ear, tugging at your earlobe just that little bit, enough to make you quiver. You didn't realise he actually wanted an answer until you felt the harsh sting of him slapping your thigh. Just enough to send that spark up to where you needed him the most.

"Fuck," you moaned, "No, Tommy, I didn't."

"Hmm, thought so. But I saw you staring at me. Checking me out, huh? I had to really control myself to not just grab you and fuck you out there, right on my drumset." His free hand, the one that wasn't holding back your arms, was getting closer to your pussy. Your entire body was pulsing and shaking, needing for him to do something. Anything.

"Just imagine that, Princess," he was whispering into your ear again, "you bouncing on my dick, in front of all of those people."

"Fuuck," you had never been much into exhibitionism, but hearing him speak like that, everything sounded good.

Suddenly you felt his fingers move over your underwear. It was just for a moment, him passing through from one thigh to the other, but it was enough to have you moan out his name in need.

"Tsk, behave, darling," he kissed your forehead. So sweetly, it almost seemed as if he wasn't about to fuck the complete hell out of you. "You're gonna behave for me, right?"