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No Business, Only Pleasure

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You feel him exhale, long and heavy, as your hands roam along the soft planes of his back. Your fingers rub each muscle tenderly, undoing knots, letting him relax into the sheets. His face is buried into the pillow, wings stretched wide on either side of his body. You have to partially hold yourself up, but the view is well worth it. There’s something miraculous, something beautiful in every inch of him.

“You’re good with your hands…” He’s more beautiful when he’s not teasing you. You feel your face grow warm as you move your attention to his left wing, shuffling onto that side of the bed. It’s fortunate that he can’t see your face, because he’d tease you mercilessly at the sight of your sheepish expression. You have to be careful when you touch his wings. For as tough as they are, they’re also sensitive.

The muscles and bones are delicate, so you need to move with finesse and intense diligence. Your fingers massage his brittle muscles, exercising extreme caution. This is usually the part of the massage where he gets fussy and impatient, so you’re not surprised when he starts to shift, sitting up on the bed.

He stares at you with, eyes half-open, looking like he definitely needs a nap. He reaches out his arms, eyebrows quirking in an expectant expression.

“Come here.” It sounds more like a whine than anything else. While you know there’s other work you want to get done, it can’t possibly hurt to indulge him. With a playful roll of your eyes, you shuffle forward on your knees and let him tug you into his lap, his face immediately nestled into the crook of your neck. Your face heats up at the contact. He’s absolutely adorable when he’s like this. While you hate how stressed his work makes him, you love how clingy and affectionate he is when he gets home. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, one of your hands reaching up to comb through his soft hair.

“I love you so much,” You murmur. He’s lulled you into a sense of security, leaving you completely unprepared for the slow grind of his hips up into yours. Your eyes snap open, lips parting in a surprised squeal. “A-Are we—?”

“Only if you want to.” He replies, looking at you with a smile. How can you say “no” when you’re pressed so tightly to his bare torso? You don’t reply, instead giving a sheepish nod. As soon as he gets permission, he shifts, gently dropping you onto the bed. You don’t get a chance to say or do anything before he’s swooping down, pressing hot, quick kisses along your jawline and over your neck. Your trembling hands reach up to tenderly grasp his shoulders, one of them shifting to wind your fingers into your hair. You can feel warmth blossoming beneath your skin.

“You’re so cute,” He praises, roughened hands sliding underneath your shirt. His tough is hot along your sides, carefully stripping you of your top. You stretch your arms above your head to help him remove it. The blanket is comfortable against your soft skin, nestled in the safety of your own home. He dips down again, lips sealing gently with your own. His hands, gloves absent, press tender caresses to your body. Your arms hold him close as his tongue slips into your mouth, silencing moans and sighs. Your eyelids flutter shut, losing yourself in him.

They still feel heavy when he parts from you. A shaky exhale leaves your body as you curl your legs upwards, hands reaching to slide off your shorts.

“Those shorts look good on you. Too bad. They gotta go.” He hums, stretching his arms above his head. Your eyes roam over his lean body, taking in every shift and flex of his muscles. There’s the rustle of fabric as he slides out of his trousers, throwing them carelessly across the room. His belt jingles as it hits the floor. His cock strains against the tight fabric of his boxers. He doesn’t hesitate to shrug them off, too, freezing his stiff erection. A sigh rattles out of you, your hands reaching to slide out of your panties.

His hand suddenly closes around your wrist, and the look he gives you is predatory.

“Leave them on.” He murmurs, but leaves no room for argument as he slides down the bed, his face level with your moist folds. His nuzzles into your left thigh affectionately, a low hum rumbling in his chest. You find yourself speechless as his lips press on your skin, fingers rising to tease your cunt. The delicious grind of fabric against you causes your back to curl, eyes shutting tight. There’s no room to be shy, so you moan and whine, hips wiggling and writhing against his face. He holds you down effortlessly, and just knowing the extent of his strength makes you even wetter.

It’s certainly not enough to get you off, but it makes you desperate, and that’s what he lives for.

Only when he’s had his fill of teasing you does he finally rise, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of your panties and tugging them down your legs, admiring every inch of you. You’re trembling with excitement by the time his tip presses against your folds.

“You ready?” He inquires, voice so quiet and loving that it almost makes you fucking cry. All you can offer is a nod, cheeks hot, arousal desperately surging in your body.

He reaches down with a single hand, steadying himself as he begins to slide into you. The initial stretch makes you part your lips in a silent whimper. Your breaths stutter in and out of your body as he finally hilts. His hand is large as it settles on your hip, thumb rubbing circles into your skin. Slowly, steadily, his hips lean back and slam back forward, prompting you to squeal his name. Despite how sore he claimed to be an hour ago, his thrusts rough.

“Fuck,” He breathes, his grip growing firmer on your heated skin. Your knuckles go white as he fucks you open, each thrust balls deep. It’s rough and it’s merciless and it’s making your head spin. “Fuck, you’re so tight—”

“Hawks,” Air heaves in and out of your lungs, syllables warbling as he hits you so fucking deep. You give a broken hiccup around your words, the noise small and pathetic. “Fuck, god, yes, don’t stop—”

The fabric strains beneath your fingers as you squeeze and tear, like you don’t even know what to do with yourself. He presses heated kisses along soft skin, chest heaving with each frantic breath. You find your hips quaking with each brutal thrust.

“Hold onto me.” It’s not a request. Your hands fly to his shoulders, nails raking at his sweat-slicked skin. His hips lose their fluent rhythm. There’s nothing controlled or coordinated about it and it makes your eyes clench shut, unable to even admire him while your eyesight goes hazy.

“Open your eyes,” You do, trying to watch each beautiful contortion and shift of his musculature. “Good girl.” His hand abandons its place on your thigh and reaches between your thighs, thumb rubbing at your clit in rough, circular motions. That alone makes your back arch, breath stolen. Heat wells up within your body, hurting towards the precipice of orgasm. Your walls squeeze and milk his thick cock, as though desperate to take in every inch of him.

“Right there, right there.” You whimper and babble, hips writhing.

With one final thrust, your senses were overwhelmed, voice screaming his name as you hit your peak. Your body’s thoroughly rocked by your orgasm. You suck in ragged breaths as he finally spills within you, low groans mingling with your helpless wails. He holds himself above you for only a few moments, before pulling out and dropping to the side, mindful of his wings.

By the time you fade back to full coherency, you feel delightfully boneless. Your mixed fluids stain the sheets beneath you, but you can’t be bothered. A warm ache seeps into your body, leaving you satisfied. Only when one of his arms wraps lazily around your stomach do you finally speak.

“That good?” You hum, weakly lifting your hand to stroke his hair. He merely grumbled in response, leaving you alone to your thoughts. Instead of saying anything else, you admire his sleepy expression. While absent of his usual smirks or smiles, there’s a relaxedness to his features that you find adorable. His eyes are glazed as they focus softly on you. He usually stays wake, even after several rounds. But after working for almost twelve hours straight, he definitely deserves a break.

You close your eyes, deciding that a quick nap can’t hurt. After all, you’ll have all week to spend with him. All the time in the world for him.