Biting your lip, you fidget uncomfortably in the hard folding chair, watching Negan's hand glide almost lovingly over the wood of that damn bat he loved so dearly, polishing it to perfection with an old rag soaked in oil. There was something oddly sexual about the way he touched Lucille, there always was, but this was down right inappropriate.
Did he really have to do this in a meeting with the Saviors?
You struggle to actually hear what Gavin is saying, even though you're pretty sure it isn't that important, considering Negan himself is clearly absorbed in polishing Lucille and not paying any attention to the "whiney little rodent" as Negan once so eloquently put it, who was in charge of picking up supplies from the Kingdom.
You try your hardest to ignore him at first, but it's hard to stop watching his hands sensually moving over the wood and imagining it's you he's touching like that. You've always had a thing for the fierce leader of the Saviors, but that thing had never gone beyond just simple harmless flirting. The kind of flirting Negan did with quite literally everyone.
You weren't under any illusions, why would Negan want you when he had six beautiful wives to keep him satisfied?
You're so intently watching Negan's nimble fingers you don't notice that Gavin has stopped talking and the attention of the room is now on you.
"Something you wanna share with the class, darlin'?" Negan's deep gravelly voice drawled.
"No," you clear your throat, "no I was just distracted. I'm sorry, won't happen again." you apologize, feeling a bit guilty for saying it knowing full well you're lying, it will happen again. As long as Negan is this hot, and he does those things with his hands it will keep happening.
The meeting disbanded, the Saviors wandering off to take care of whatever orders Negan gave them, and you headed back to your room to change for the upcoming run.
You wonder if you have time to touch yourself to the fantasy of Negan doing exactly what he was doing to Lucille to you as you strip out of your clothes down to your lingerie. Absorbed in your thoughts, you don't notice that you left your door cracked open.
"damn darlin'! I didn't know you were inked up like that." a familiar deep, sexy voice drawls from the doorway, making you jump and try to cover yourself with your shirt.
"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you." Negan apologizes "I can leave if you want, but I'd rather not." he admits with a smirk, his dark eyes scan your half naked body, lingering on the ink marking your thighs, and tracing the curves and lines of ink showing from under the lace of your bra. His gaze is so intense it feels like he's actually touching you, it makes you fidget and bite your lip to hold back an obscene noise.
"No, it's okay." you say.
"Do you mind?" Negan asks, taking your hand in his, and running the fingers of his other up your arm, to trace the ink there. You shake your head no.
The goosebumps spreading across your skin wherever his fingers touch make you shiver.
You drop the shirt you were using to cover yourself, letting his gaze take in all your half naked body without the barrier. His fingertips ghost over the ink on your shoulder, tracing the delicate lines of your tattoos over your collarbone, you eventually can't stop the moan from bubbling up in the back of your throat, your eyes falling closed on their own accord. It was almost embarrassing how much you were enjoying this.
"These are beautiful," he comments, his fingers still working their way across your chest piece, "almost as beautiful as you are."
Did you just hear him correctly? Was he actually into you?
You get your answer in the form of his other hand tracing the lines on your upper thigh until he has a handful of the curve of your ass.
You decide to take your chance and lean up on tiptoes to kiss him, he lets out a surprised gasp, but returns the kiss in full. His lips are surprisingly soft, a perfect juxtaposition to the roughness of his stubble scratching against your skin.
You feel one of those large, rough hands you'd imagined touching you so many times knot in your hair, the other roughly squeezing your ass.
He finally breaks the kiss after a long breathless moment, his fingers finding the clasp of your bra, he looks down at you, clearly asking for permission, and you nod. He doesn't waste any time, unclasping the garment and easily picking you up and throwing you down on the bed in one smooth, fluid movement.
"Guess I know why you were so fuckin' distracted in the meeting today." Negan chuckles, and your cheeks flush with embrassment at the realization that he's figured you out.
"You were imagining me doing all that shit I was doing with my Lucille to you, right?" you know he already knows the answer but you nod anyways.
He moves to his knees between your legs on the bed, and you feel yourself throb in response.
"You want me to touch you like that now?" he asks, and you nod again, sighing in pleasure when he lays his hands on you again.
You reach up to grab a handful of his hair, but Negan grabs your hands, easily pinning your wrists to the bed above your head in one of his.
"No," he says firmly, "you're gonna hold still for me and let me get acquainted with this gorgeous inked up body."
You nod, and even once he lets go of your wrists you leave them above your head.
His gaze is so intense it feels as if its burning holes into your half naked body, as he pulls the lace of the bra away from your chest. The fingers of his free hand follow the ink between your breasts, and trace the swirls of your sternum piece. His touch is surprisingly gentle, slow and soft as he explores your body, almost…Worshiping it.
His hands trace every drop of ink on your skin, and his lips follow, until you're a wet, trembling mess under his ministrations. Negan's hands on you feel better than you even imagined they would, and you had spent a lot of time imagining it. You look down at your body and watch his hands on you,true to his word,he's touching you the exact same way he touched Lucille in the meeting room, and you can't hold in your moans anymore.
"There you go, let me hear how fucking good I'm making you feel." he praises. And you do, only getting louder and louder as his lips work their way up your thighs, inching closer to where you really want them.
His fingers dig into the inked skin of your thighs, opening your legs and exposing your dripping sex to the cool air, lowering his head with the same slow methodical motions he'd used on the rest of your body, he takes a soft, measured lap against your folds and you immediately break his rule of being still, your hips jerk upward. He shoots you a warning glance but continues nonetheless, each lap getting a little bit deeper and a little bit broader until his tongue is buried inside you and his beard covered in your wetness. It doesn't take you long to come undone, and he edgerly laps up every onuce you give him.
He wipes your arousal off his beard, and shrugs out of his leather jacket. You watch him strip out of his clothes in a state of post-orgasm bliss, and only snap out of it when he asks you if you have condoms. You fumble in the bedside table and produce one, you hope it's not expired but are too hot and bothered to really to be bothered with checking.
Your eyes instantly flit down to watch him roll the rubber over his already rock hard manhood. You had always wondered if he was exaggerating the size of his dick, turns out he wasn't.
Bracing himself with one hand on your headboard, he lines his tip up with your soaked entrance, your body edgerly swallowing him up and clenching around him as he enters you. He goes slow enough that you feel every inch of his thick cock sliding inside, the bulbous tip stretching your tight opening and nugging against your swollen g-spot. You watch his eyes roll back in his head as your body spasms around his member, forcing a moan out from deep in his chest when bare down on his member so tight you can feel the vein on the underside of his cock.
"OH fuck, baby! Do that again." he pulls out till just his tip is inside you and slams back in at the perfect angle, illisting the response he wanted from your body making your aching pussy squeeze him almost painfully tight.
"Goddamn! Tight as fuck, and tattooed up, if I knew you were this fuckin' perfect I'd have asked you to be my wife a long ass time ago." he grunts.
"Are you-" you're cut off by a particularly hard thrust "Asking me now?" you manage to ask, your nails digging into his back.
"What do you think, sweetheart?" he half moans.
"Yes, Negan. God yes. I thought you'd never ask!" you aren't sure if the giddy release you feel is another orgasm coming on or the fact that you know you will now be getting fucked like this on the regular.
It only takes him a couple of more hard thrusts to send you into your second orgasm of the night.
To your surprise Negan pulls out without reaching his own release once your walls stop clenching and spasming around him, and pulls the condom off.
"I have another idea about where I wanna come." he explains. "sit up for me, baby." he repositions you at the edge of the bed and stands in front of you, taking your breasts in each hand, taking a moment to pinch your nipples and make you moan in over stimulation. You only figure out what he wants when he positions his cock between your breasts and pushes them together. The sight alone makes precome leak from his tip.
He's so focused on watching his manhood slide between the supple inked skin that he doesn't notice you bowing your head until he feels your tongue lap the bead of precome at his tip.
After each thrust you teasingly lick the swollen head of his cock, until he finally comes undone with a deep satisfied groan. His come blurring out the ink of your chest piece, he flops down beside you to admire his handy work.
"I guess we're probably too late for the run." you observe making him laugh.
"Shit, yeah. We definitely are." he agrees.
You spend the rest of the night in bed with him, letting him trace your tattoos and telling him the stories behind a few of them, until you both drift off to sleep.