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When he comes home, it's with dark circles under his eyes. He closes the door to his office with a sigh, removing his glasses to rub at the red marks on his nose, and then he slumps. It starts at his broad shoulders, a long and heavy sigh that trickles down into his hips and legs, throwing himself into his chair with a muffled thud.
Your mouth twitches unbehest, "He's a teenager, Gabriel,"
He sighs again, pressing his fingers into the corners of his eyes, "And I wish he wasn't,"
You laugh, and the corner of his mouth lifts a little. He opens one eye, dark blue glinting in the light as he scans you from ankle to face. It makes your spine liquid, excitement making you fight a giggle as the smile gets more crooked. Gabriel is gorgeous, but you know that. Age suits him like a fine wine, wrinkles in the corners of his eyes when he choses to grace the world with a grin, and salt and pepper in his blonde hair that only make him more distinguished. For his age, he keeps himself fit and healthy, but that's in no part thanks to his use of the miraculous. He'd explained it to you once, your head on his chest as he explained how the miraculous not only gets more powerful with your age, but with your own strength, physical or mental. And the Moth is not a predator, so it does not always lend itself to physical prowess, rather escape and to help from afar. So instead, he maintains a work out that leaves him with thick thighs and a broad chest, of which your eyes are tempted to float between the latter.
"Sweetheart," his voice takes on a edge that makes your heart flutter, arousal starting between your legs, "Come here,"
It's a short walk from your desk to his couch chair. He's splayed out like a man ten years younger, smirking like he knows it. Red pants, stretched over tall, thick legs that you stand between. His hands open wide on the sides of the armchair as he admires you, suit jacket splayed open over his striped tie. He admires you for a second, his knee knocking into the side of yours almost playfully, "And how have you behaved today, Precious?"
You smile in response, mouth splitting over your teeth in a wicked grin, "Good. I've finished the reports and updated the designs,"
His smile gets a little less cheeky, eyes closing in relaxation, "That's my Darling,"
Pride fills your chest and arousal trickles down your spine at the praise. He's not shy with his compliments, at least to you and he recognises value in a job well done. Gabriel doesn't bother to open them before he speaks again, "On your knees,"
Of course, you go willingly, mouth dry and body loose in anticipation. Excitement curls in the base of your spine, and the cold floor bites into your knees. You rest your hands on the bright red trousers, not any higher as you wait for a command. You've been taught how to behave, and you do as you are told and not anymore.
"Kiss me," he tells you, and you do willingly, rising up to meet him as he leans forward. Gabriel kisses you like he handles everything in life: with aggression and passion. He bites at your lip, but he cradles your face like you're precious, gentle hands on your cheekbones as you whine. You don't pull away or push forward, allowing yourself to be moved as he moves you, even as arousal burns between your legs and your heart beats a tattoo in your chest. He licks the taste of you into his mouth with a happy hum, leaving your face flushed and your body shaking as he pulls away.
"My beautiful Sweetheart," he murmurs, and you barely catch your breath before his hand strokes across your thumb, "You can help me relax now,"
Relax is a codeword for you both, and your hands run down his chest, fingers teasing at his waistband before you look at him for approval. He just smiles at you, no words given which means...which means you can't go any further. Or at least remove any clothes of his yet. You fist your fingers on his thighs, chewing at your lips as you contemplate what to do before...
The idea is humiliating, but with no other ideas, you nuzzle into the bulge that hides behind soft fabric, nose bumping the ridge as you press kisses into his thighs. Blush burns across your cheeks, your mouth catching on each pass before you dart your tongue out to lick. Which makes Gabriel jolt in surprise. It's not often you get to do that to him, secretly celebrating as you give soft kitten licks to cock as it bounces under your lips. Gabriel hisses when you give a tiny nip, hand tightening in your hair as you open your mouth to suck in apology. Drool turns the bright red to blood red, salty taste as you swirl your tongue around the top of his head.
"Talented little thing aren't you," he hums, teasing lilt to his voice. He makes you work with barely a reaction, just the occasional shift of his cock and his hand tightening on your scalp. The most obvious reward is his foot shoved between your legs, dress shoe tip shifting at the apex of your leg. You grind on it, helpless as frustration takes over your mind to leave it in a purple clouded haze. Your hips shift stupidly, tongue working as Gabriel just chuckles and watches with a soft smile, "You're doing a great job, Sweetheart,"
The praise burns at your core, leaving you brainless and desperate. Your hands itch to work, but until Gabriel says the word you won't move. It's a waiting game, who will win first but you're too well disciplined to lose.
Gabriel likes to play games yes, but he forgets who he plays them with.
It takes a while for Gabriel to break, but when he does it starts with his hips. Small, tiny thrusts that aren't hard enough to stop you but are enough to encourage you to keep going. Your little laps become long licks until the fabric is sodden, leaving trails on your cheeks with every suck you take. You keep grinding, too lost to remember that you had a goal when Gabriel is the one to move: he rips the fabric at his hip with a snarl, zip split pathetically as he yanks down the material. He never wears underwear either, so his cock nearly slaps you in the face. Of course you freeze, precum on your lips as it weeps from the tip. You never do anything without permission, letting Gabriel thrust gently along your face.
"That's it, Angel," he coos, stuttering breath over clenched teeth, "You're so good to me, Little One,"
A whimper escapes your lips as he teases you, mouth open and tongue lolling as your hips continue in a lazy circle. It's all too easy for him to dip just the head inside your mouth, and still, you don't move, eyes on his as he thrusts ever so gently. His throat swallows, corded bands tight as he clenches his jaw with a quiet swear. He loses control before you do, desperate thrusts into your mouth with sweet praises and bitter growls.
Sweetheart is your favourite petname, a reminder of just how dear you are to him as he uses you to chase his own pleasure. It makes your arousal throb with neglect, impatient and fighting with your control. But you know a reward will be more than worth the weight, with salt on your tongue as you gag when his cock tries to breach the barrier of your throat.
And reward comes, not in the way you expect it, on your face or in your mouth. Not in praise or complaint. It comes in him pulling you from between his legs to force you face first to the floor. Your cheek burns on the rug, his desperate hands pulling at your clothes as you gasp for breath. When he enters you, you're barely prepared so it comes with a sting.
"You're okay, my Mariposa," he mutters it into your spine, hand in your hair to keep you from moving, "You're doing so good for me, such a good whore,"
His words leave your sex dripping, rocking back ever so little as the prospect of orgasm was ripped away from you with his foot. Now he just ruts into you like an animal, hard slaps of bony hips against your ass as he chases pleasure. It spreads to your finger tips, a spark of lightening that makes your hands curl in the fibres just to feel grounded. Fuck. Fuck. *Fuck.*
"That's it, my Beloved," he coos in your ear and it's over for you.
When you come it's untouched, eyes rolling back as you soak the rug beyond repair, but Gabriel just keeps thrusting when you squeal, sharp, short and making sparks in your eyes. He comes with his mouth against your neck, folding you underneath his frame as he shudders. You can feel his cock flex inside you, hot and warm as his cum drips out in an overflow.
It's not love, not yet. But what you get is enough for now.