Tom Holland & Peter Parker Imagines & Preferences (book 2)

Dessert (smutyish)

"Are you sure you don't want any?"

Tom didn't respond verbally, just stiffly shook his head.

You watched him from across the table; looking deeply into his eyes as you scraped the last little bit of chocolate mousse from the glass. He narrowed his eyes and pulled his bottom lip into his mouth; worrying it with his teeth. He'd been in a mood since the second he tried to get the check and you ordered dessert instead.

You drew the moment out for as long as you could, as you closed your eyes and moaned while you swirled your tongue around the spoon. Tom's jaw was tightly clenched when you finally dropped the spoon back into the glass. "That was so good. You should have tried some."

"Nah. I'm good. Are you sure you don't want anything else?" Tom asked, his voice tinged with equal parts frustration and sarcasm.

You rolled your eyes to the ceiling in feigned contemplation. Tom was literally at the edge of his seat. He looked like he might spontaneously combust if you delayed your departure from the restaurant for so much as another second. "Ooh. A cup of coffee might hit the spot."

His big brown eyes narrowed down to slits. "We have coffee at home, darling. I'd be glad to make you some when we get there."

"Hmm. That's true."

"So, I can get the check now?"

"Yes."

"And we can go home?"

"Of course." You slipped your foot out of your shoe and slowly slid it up and down his calf. "Are you okay, baby? You seem a little flushed."

He simply glared at you as he raised his hand to get your server's attention.

You knew you were pushing your luck at that point but honestly, he had it coming.

The problem was that your boyfriend, your sweet, kind boyfriend, was an incorrigible tease. He thought absolutely nothing of getting you all worked up and leaving you high and dry; well, not dry.

He'd wake you up in the morning by kissing and licking around your stomach and thighs only to disappear off to the gym for hours. He would whisper ridiculously filthy things in your ear while you were out in public and laugh at your attempts not to react. His worst offense to date was the time he slid his hand underneath your skirt while you were out to dinner with your friends. He somehow managed to maintain the innocent expression of a choir boy while bringing you right to the edge.

You figured it was time he got a taste of his own medicine.

You had been teasing him all day. Kissing him passionately then backing away when he tried for more. Walking around in the skimpiest tank top and shorts that you owned and dodging every attempt he made to get his hands on you. By the time you presented your bareback to him and asked him to zip up the short, tight black dress you were wearing that night, Tom was so tightly wound he was practically vibrating. Just to twist the knife a little bit, you kept innocently rubbing your hand against his leg and inner thigh on the drive to the restaurant. Tom never said a word but the way his hands tightened against the steering wheel gave you a smug little thrill.

The last straw was when you went to the ladies' room, took off your underwear and casually dropped them in Tom's lap when you returned to the table. He nearly choked on his food as he turned bright red and hastily shoved your lacy black undies into his pants pocket.

"You are on thin ice already, love."

"I've gotta be real with you, Thomas. I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"Keep it up and you'll find out." Your server returned to the table and presented Tom with the bill. His usually neat handwriting turned into an illegible scribble as he hurriedly signed the receipt and snapped the little folder closed.

Tom pulled out your chair and extended his hand to you. "Are you ready, sweetheart?" You took his hand and let him help you up.

As soon as you got to the parking lot, he dropped your hand and pushed you up against the side of his car. "What are you playing at?"

"Again, I really don't know what—." Before you could finish your sentence, Tom was on you. He hungrily licked his way into your mouth, moaning against your lips when you threaded your fingers into the soft hair at the nape of his neck and pulled.

When he gripped your hips and ground his growing arousal against your thigh, you gently pushed him away. "Tom, we're in public. You really should try to conduct yourself appropriately." He gave you an incredulous look which you returned with a blank stare. "Are you gonna get the door for me or what?"

Tom let out a frustrated sigh before finally relenting and opening your car door. Once you were properly seated inside, he closed the door and gestured for you to roll the window down. "You obviously have no idea how close you're coming to getting fucked in the backseat of this car."

You raised slightly out of your seat to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Promises, promises." You rolled the window back up and turned around to face forward.

He stood there for a moment before stalking around to the driver's side and climbing into the car. You could see Tom staring at you out the side of your eye as you fiddled with the radio, purposefully ignoring him.

He finally started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. The two of you not saying a word to each other; let the soft music fill the silent space in the car.

Without taking his eyes off the road, Tom put his hand on your lap, pushing your already short dress all the way up your legs before settling his hand on your inner thigh. "I really hope you enjoyed your dessert because when we get home, I'm going to have mine."