You spot your boyfriend in the midst of his friends. He waves you over happily when he sees you and you push through the crowd. When you get to him, he gives you a quick kiss, then pulls you to sit in his lap. His friends say hi to you, then continue their conversation.
After a few minutes, you grow uncomfortable. You squirm in his lap and feel his grip on your waist tighten. Wanting to have a little fun, you continue to move about gently until you feel him rise under you. He's stopped contributing to the conversation.
You turn to him to find he's already looking at you. He pokes his tongue in his cheek and shakes his head, letting you know he knows what you're doing. You bat your eyelashes innocently and turn away from him.
He sits up so his chest is pressed up against your back. The party is loud but you can hear him grunt and sigh in satisfaction. You scooch forward and reach behind you to let your fingers brush against him.
He groans a little too loud, then proceeds to cover it by clearing his throat. You chuckle quietly. He leans forward to your ear, speaking quietly enough that only you can hear. "Have your fun, pretty girl. When we get home, I'm going to have my own fun," he whispers.
His words stun you into silence and you freeze. He uses his hands to gently continue to move you. "No, no," he says quietly. "I didn't say stop."
--
He pulled into the driveway and got out, walking to open the door for you. Before he got to your side, you locked the door.
"Sweetheart, can you please open the door?" he asks, chuckling. You shake your head furiously. He thinks for a moment before smiling. "I'll get you Ben&Jerry's after>"
"What flavor?" you ask. He breathes heavily, knowing his answer could make or break it all.
"Chocolate chip cookie dough," he finally answers. You unlock the door and he opens it, holding a hand out for you to take.
"It's the best flavor," you say happily. He agrees, leading you inside.
"Alright. Everything off except the heels, pretty girl. Slowly, so I can watch," he instructs once you're in the bedroom. He sits down in the arm chair as you comply.
You liked when he would watch you. The desire seeping from his eyes as you held contact made you feel wanted. Needed. He beckons you over when you finish, pulling you onto his lap facing him.
"You are very, very, bad, you know that?" he says, trailing kisses along your collar bone. You hum in agreement, only half listening. "Teasing me like that in public," he mumbles, biting your neck.
He pulled you down, finally locking his lips with yours before pulling away suddenly. He lifts you, carrying you towards the bed and laying you on your back.
"Well, we know what happens to very bad girls, don't we?" he asks. You nod again. He leans down so close, you can feel his breath hit your nose. "I need you to say it," he whispers.
"Apricots," you mumble.
"Good girl," he whispers, kissing you on the forehead. "Now. Shall we begin?" he asks as he places the blindfold over your eyes.
--
An hour later, you're mumbling incoherently, begging him with every breath.
"Louder," he demands. "I want the neighbors to hear how good you sound when you're getting exactly what you deserve." Again, you comply, begging much louder.
When he unties you, you're right on the edge of pleasure. You can barely contain yourself, shaking everywhere he touched you. He made his way up your body at a painfully slow pace, leaving a trail of soft kisses. He started at your legs, going up your thighs, your stomach, before settling on your neck for some time.
"Let go, baby," he whispers at last. That was all you needed to let the sensation tear through you slowly, leaving you a gasping mess. He lays next to you, rubbing your back and shushing you, kissing your forehead.
"You're okay. You were so good for me, beautiful," he says quietly.
After a few minutes, he asks if you're okay, to which you nod absentmindedly. He then carries you to the bathroom and places you in a warm bath.
When you return to the bedroom, he's changed the sheets, cleaned up, and has water and your ice cream in his hands. You reach happily for the ice cream, which he pulls away. "Water first. Then ice cream," he tells you.
You pout, rolling your eyes, but drink the refreshing water anyways. He sits so his back is against the headboard and you crawl into his arms.
He hands you your ice cream and you hum contently. You feel him shake with laughter. "What's so funny?" you ask, you mouth full of ice cream.
"You always hum when you eat ice cream," he responds, still chuckling. "It's cute."
You shrug. "I have been known to be very cute," you say, gloating.
He turns your head so he can lean down, kissing you slowly. His hand rests on your face as he rubs his thumb across your cheek. "The cutest," he agrees, placing a quick kiss on your nose.
