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Inexplicably horny.

The minute Spencer walked in the door, you turned to him with a smirk. “I’m very needy tonight.”

“Really?” He smiled, the devious sparkle in his eye making you quiver in anticipation. When you nodded, yours eyes fixated on him and he stepped closer. “Well, I happen to be in a very giving mood.” The dominant side of him was so delicious.

“Sweet-and-subtle giving or the fuck-me-into-oblivion giving?” You had a particular type in mind right now. It did not involve a bed, deep kisses and soft touches.

He raised his eyebrow as he closed the space between you, his fingers coming up to gently grasp your chin. “What kind are you looking for?”

“The fuck-me-into-oblivion kind,” you snickered. “No ropes or cuffs or restraints, just you. I want you to show me whom I belong to.”

You wanted him. All of him. No mind for anything but feeling.

Before you knew it, Spencer took your bottom lip between his and pulled slightly, quickly becoming breathless as he grasped for your clothing and began tearing it away from your skin.

Without a word, he turned you around and placed his hand on the small of your back, applying the perfect amount of pressure - nothing overt, but just enough to indicate exactly what he expected of you. Your overheated skin hissed against the cool wood of the table, followed by your sigh of contentment.

Behind you came the metallic clanking of his belt buckle and the swish of the leather through the loops of his pants. The sound made your legs shake. Such a simple sequence of tones made your mind whirl with possibilities and probabilities. Tender, sweet bruises you would only notice when the morning light shines into the bedroom. Filthy words dripping from his mouth. His grip firm against your hips. His pace quickening with each sound you made until he was animalistic and relentless, his mouth hanging open in ecstasy as you screamed out his name with no thoughts about who might hear.

“Make me a needy, coming, greedy, grasping mess,” you sighed.

He bent down as he teased your slit with his cock, placing a kiss on the back of your neck. “I thought you were already needy?”

“Okay,” you replied, biting your bottom lip as you arched yourself upward by getting on your tiptoes, “Then how about a coming, greedy, grasping mess?”

“That I can do.”

There was no more time for anything resembling tenderness. He slipped inside you roughly but with ease, a hiss escaping from between his teeth as your walls clenched around him. From your position, you had the perfect view of his face. God he was beautiful. When he allowed himself to just be in these moments, you took them in.

When he pulled back and gave you the full force of him, you groaned into the table. And then he started thrusting with no regard for grace in any form. It was like he couldn’t wait and couldn’t focus enough to have you in any other way but this. The table, a couch, anything would do - desire coursing through him and taking over.

“Oh fuck, baby, you feel so good. Harder, please.” The table shook with each thrust, his cock filling you completely and then leaving you empty and waiting for more. Your mind filled with the sounds you made together. Your cries were strangled - his pointed and in rhythm with his thrusts. It was your soundtrack for the night.

From the inside out, you could feel your climax getting closer and closer. There was a desire thrumming through you that was matched in him. “Fuck, Y/N. I’m so close,” he breathed.

“Then come for me,” you replied.

Spencer reached down and grabbed your hands as leverage, tugging you backward, all the way down onto his length with each thrust. “Can I come?” You asked.

“No,” he grunted. “Tonight, me first. Because I know that’s what you really want.”

It was. It was what you wanted to hear. You knew he’d take care of you after. “Come for me, Spence. Please. I need it.”

As he reached around your front and started rubbing your clit, he reminded you that you were not to come unless he said so, but with each movement, you felt the coil within you tighten and tighten. “This is mine,” he whispered against your skin. He had not let up his pace. “I allow you to come.”

“Yes, Sir.”

With two simple words, he cried out, biting down gently onto your shoulder as his cum filled you. “Now, you can come.”

“Fuck!” You reached out for the sides of the table to hold onto as you rode out your high, shaking against the wood of the table. “Oh my god.”

Pulling out, you could feel your combined arousal sliding slowly down your leg. “You okay?” He asked, his tone light and out of breath. “Your shaking and clinging to the table.”

“I asked you to make it happen,” you giggled. “You want to take me inside and clean me up?”

Spencer turned you over and bent down, taking your lips in a heated kiss as his body arched down into you. “How about we get a little messier first?”