He hands his phone to his girl to pick out a sexy playlist before her wrists are tied together. ("Choose wisely. Not gonna have the chance to change it until I'm finished with you.")
He holds two ties in front of her, letting her decide which designer brand she'd like to be tied up with.
He always orders her to use her words. "Have I gagged you? No. Use your words." (If she still doesn't follow his directions, he cracks his hand down on either her thigh or her ass, growling, "What did I just fuckin' say?")
He mutters a "fuck me" whenever she walks out of the bathroom with a new pair of lingerie, eyes drinking in the image of her, mind reeling with places he wants to touch, places he wants to mark up.
He fucks her in front of a mirror when she's feeling particularly self conscious, unable to process the thought of her thinking ill of herself. He holds one hand on her waist and the other under her chin to keep her head forward, making eye contact with her through the mirror.
He presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he gazes down at his girl sprawled under him while figuring out what he wants to do with her.
He blinks at her fondly when making love and she's on top. Hands on her hips, caressing her skin, he gets a good look of her pleasure stricken face. "Can't believe it," he murmurs over and over. "Can't believe you're mine."
He gets emotional mid fuck and buries his face in her neck, whimpering out soft moans and broken I love you's.
He's always so apologetic during make up sex, whispering, "Please, please, please," continuously as he pushes himself into her. She's unsure if he's begging for forgiveness or for release. Either way, she kisses his head hard and shakes her head to tell him it's all okay.
He runs his fingers through her sweaty post sex hair sleepily, eyes half lidded and heavy, He wants to tell her she's very loved, but he's too weak, and instead just presses a single kiss to her cheek and hopes his message is sent. (It is.)
He demands, "Open your mouth" and presses his thumb in. "Since you can't stay fuckin' quiet, daddy's gotta keep somethin' in that pretty little mouth, hmm? Makes you shut right up."
He wraps her hair around his fist, giving her a sharp tug when she slows her hips around him, too slow for his liking. He knows she's just catching her breath, but just to mess with her, he alarms her. When she whines, he says cheekily, "Just making sure you're awake."
He splays his fingers against her lower tummy, pressing in slightly. She gasps and holds his wrist there. "Feel me right here?" he grunts. "Fillin' you up good?"
Digs his nails into her back when she's riding him, the burning sensation making her arch her back and desperately ask for more. He'll drag his fingers down to her ass and leaving indents of his nails there too, giving her a sharp slap -- to which she responds to with a cry and a jerk towards him.
He has a hard look on his face when she's acting out in public, clearly trying to keep his act together, but when she pushes his buttons enough, he places a warning hand on her thigh and digs his fingers into the fleshiest part. Later when they're back home, he'll give her the silent treatment until she's on her knees begging him to let her suck him off as an apology, tears in her eyes, headspace all fuzzy.
He'll have her bring his jewelry box out and shakily place the rings back on his fingers before he pulls her across his lap.
He mocks her when she's being whiney and unable to ask him what she wants from him. "What's that? Want a kiss baby? Y'know how to ask for one."
His heart melts whenever he's fucking her from behind and he's got her wrists in one hand, and she's wiggling her fingers at him to try to entice him to hold her hands. He almost always gives in, although he once counted how long he could go without giving in. (It was a measly two minutes.)
He gathers her hair into a ponytail when she's sucking him off, running his thumb over her cheek when he can see the outline of his dick. His hand slides down to her bulging throat and chokes her for just a second before she sputters and slides off of him, a thin line of spit connecting her lips with his cock. "Look so hot," he rasps, bringing himself back to her mouth. "Go on. Get me back in."
He times how long he can eat her out for until she's burying her fingers into his curls. It's even more pathetic than the time it takes for him to hold her hand when he's fucking her from behind. It's only forty five seconds.
He plays along when she says she wants to top, but then regrets making fun of her when he's handcuffed to the bedpost, desperately bucking his hips to get some sort of friction. She kneels in front of him with her mouth open after giving him the challenge to see if he can reach her from where she is. Her mouth looks so warm and inviting. If only he could reach it...
His eyes roll back when she continues to slide up and down his dick after they've both orgasmed, unable to withdraw herself from the feeling of being stretched out. He doesn't mind at all.
He presses himself against her, slipping inside just briefly until his dick fattens, effectively deeming "cockwarming" as useless.
He absolutely loves messy sex more than anything. Teeth knocking together, tongue slipping out of their mouths, a hearty laugh falling from her mouth when he hits his head on the head board simply out of excitement because she's about to ride him.
He sits on the closed toilet lid while she bathes after a difficult day at work for about twelve minutes before standing up and removing his own clothes. With a little splash, he's sitting behind her, pressing his dick to her ass, sprinkling kisses onto her neck and shoulder, smiling to himself when he feels goosebumps arise at the back of her neck. "Missed you today, baby."
He whispers after they're done fucking, "Could write poetry about you, you know that right? Could write songs about your pussy. A novel about your mouth..." he traces her cupid's bow with a finger, "...about how much I love you."
He zones out in an important meeting just thinking about her naked in between his sheets, ready for him to destroy. It certainly doesn't help when she sends him a nude, and then he's gritting out a lie to get home and make her pay for it.
"Slow down," he murmurs against her mouth when she's grappling at his clothes, desperate to remove them. He lays his hands on top of her and pulls them away. When she resists, he continues, "S'alright. It's okay. Got all night, baby, I'm not goin' anywhere, yeah?"
He clicks his tongue disapprovingly when she whimpers, "I need to cum" after a two week long dry spell. He squishes her cheeks together and says, "That's now how we ask, is it? Ask me nicely and I might consider it."
He asks her hotly as he fucks her roughly that leaves her crying out, desperately grabbing the sheets around her to ground herself, "Who fucks you this good, hmm? Who makes you cum so hard? Let 'em know baby." He tightens his hold on her waist. "C'mon lemme hear you. Say my fuckin' name."
Bonus:
When she's finally in subspace and all clingy, he's got to drape her over his shoulder just to bring her along downstairs where he gets her a glass of water and a granola bar. When they're back upstairs and she's sniffling and despately pressing herself to his chest, he helps her, smoothing her sweaty hair and he holds the glass of water to her lips, encouraging her to drink. If she doesn't drink or eat -- which she usually doesn't -- he sighs and runs his thumbs over her cheeks to catch any stray tears, murmuring, "I know, I know. I'm right here. Not going anywhere. Don't want a drink? Wanna catch your breath first, love?"
