Fifty Shades Of Mars (Bruno Mars Fanfiction)

1. Fuck The Dinner

TWITTER: @BOSSASSBRUNZ

You pull up to the house at 6:52 pm with your stomach in knots and turn the car off. It’s only been 2 days since you last saw him, but it feels like forever. You turn your head to look at his Hollywood Hills home. You’ve been here many times before.

The house is massive. On each side of the 11-foot tall double front doors, 4 marble pillars support the roof of the front deck. 3 large windows occupy the right wall, and the porch is surrounded by shrubs. From your previous visits, you know that the inside of the house is even more magnificent than what you can see now.

You take one last look in the overhead mirror to adjust your light layer of makeup before opening the car door and stepping out onto the pavement. You walk up the driveway slowly, not wanting to look as desperate as you are to see him again. After the sixth step you take, however, the front door creeps open, and he steps outside into the cool night air. He’s wearing a gray striped t-shirt with a black leather jacket. His pants hang perfectly from his hips, and instead of wearing his distinctive fedora, he has his hair in a wild mess of curls on his head. His eyes, never leaving yours as he makes his way over to you, are a deep, mesmerizing chocolate brown.

“Hey babe”, he says before placing a slow, sweet kiss on your lips.

“Hey,” you answer, slightly lightheaded. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. You look good,” he replies. He lowers his head again and kisses you deeper this time, stopping only to breathe. You move your lips against his, following the rhythm he has set. You wrap your arms around his neck, never wanting to let go. His hands move from your sides to your waist, and you nearly shiver with pleasure. He lets out a slight groan after a moment, and you know he wants you just as much as you want him. You’ve almost had sex with him once before. It was last weekend. He brought you up to his bedroom and he had started to undress you lovingly, but Phil had shown up at the last minute. When Bruno heard the front door open down the hall, he let out an almost animalistic growl and apologized, telling you to put your clothes back on. Just thinking about what almost transpired that night makes you wet.

He stops abruptly and pulls away slightly. “If we’re ever gonna make it inside for dinner, we need to stop… now,” he sighs, his voice low. You can feel the end of a very pronounced erection in your hip.

You ignore him and pull his lips back to yours again. “Fuck the dinner,” you whisper against them. Your hips start to grind against his on their own, and he begins to do the same, despite his intentions.

“Are you sure?” he hesitates, his breathing harsh. “Now?”

“I’ve never wanted you as much as I do right now. Please, Bruno…”

He gives in, and he turns and practically runs into the house, your hand in his. Once inside, he turns back to you and kisses you fiercely. He grunts against your lips, pushing you up against the wall next to the door. He grinds his hips into your waist, showing you just how much you affect him.

“Bedroom,” you whisper. He doesn’t stop, and acts as though you haven’t said anything.

“Get this off,” Bruno snaps, breathless, and moves his hands to the hem of your shirt. You raise your arms above your head without hesitation and he tosses your shirt to the side.

“Bruno…” you gasp, kissing him back with all that you have. You twist your fingers into the mop of curls on his head and pull him tighter against your body. He picks you up and you wrap your legs around his waist, kicking your heels off in the process. He uses the wall as a crutch to hold you up as his hands frantically move up and down your arms and then onto your chest, where he kneads your concealed breasts. You start to lose control of your breathing, and you can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter.