Do you always sit like that? (Tom Hiddleston Smut)

Chapter 1

Beccey stared at the man across the bar, sitting like a whore, his legs splayed open to share that rather large bulge with anyone who wanted to see. She walks towards him and leans against the bar, ordering a shot of tequila.

"Do you always sit like that?" She asks.

"Excuse me?" The man seems confused. Beccey turned to face him after downing the shot, the alcohol burning her throat marvelously.

"Do you always sit like a proper whore?" She gives a soft smirk and he laughs at her question.

"Yes, I tend to... Why is it in your concern?" His eyes fell over her form, taking in her short, skin tight dress, that rather fantastically showed her cleavage.

"Maybe I'm interested in taking care of that for you.." She murmurs, her fingertips slowly trailing up his thighs. The man swallows hard, but does not move away.

"I'm Tom.." He murmurs. "Your name is?" A hint of mischief glowed bright in her eyes.

"Why are you asking?" She purrs, slipping off of the chair and standing between his legs. His eyes had a lusty darkness in them and he almost gave a low growl.

"So I know who I'm fucking tonight."

"Ooh, is that a promise?" She squeezes his thigh and his eyes flutter as the smallest, quietest groan escapes his lips.

"Yes.." His voice is deep, dark, a form of an almost growl; The sexiest sound she's ever heard in her entire life.

"My place or yours?" Beccey smiles. He slips one hand to her waist and yanks her to him, pressing his lips to her ear, making her whimper.

"Mine.." He purrs. "I may have to take care of you once I'm done fucking you into the mattress." She leaned forward and kissed him heatedly, her hand creeping up his thigh to rest on his bulge, but he pulled her hand away before she could. "Nuh uh uh. As horny as you make me, we need to wait until we're back to my place." He purrs, gripping her wrist and tugging her out of the bar and to his Jag.

"Sweet car.." she murmurs, running her fingertips along the side of the car's body.

"Thanks, now get in." He opens the door for her and she slides into the car, buckling herself in and he jogged to the other side of the car.

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Once they finally got back to his place, he shoved her back against his door with a grunt, kissing her hard. Beccey shoved him back onto the nearest thing she could see, which was a kitchen chair and she straddled his waist, ripping his shirt off.

"Feisty are we?" Tom purrs with a low, dark chuckle. She gives him a light smirk and kisses his collarbone, trailing upwards and biting at his neck, making him pant.

"You don't know feisty sweetheart." Beccey whispers into his ear, dragging her nails down his chest, a small grunt leaving Tom's lips.

"Oh dear god, you're like poison." Tom murmurs, Beccey pulling away in result.

"How am I like poison?" She asks gently, confused.

"So sweet at first, but so bad for me in the end." He pants out the words and she laughs, flipping them so he's over her.

"That's what you say now... You'll be praising when we're done." Beccey spoke boldly.