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Jeannette was a goddamn goddess. Floyd was far from blind and maybe he wouldn’t admit it, but he thanked his lucky stars that this crazy bitch saw something in him . Even if it was just because he smelled so much like death. Nobody had ever liked that part of him. People ‘accepted’ it, asked him to change. Nobody ever loved the killer inside of him unless they were paying him for something. That made things different in a way Floyd didn’t want to admit -- at least not out loud.
His wrists tugged against the handcuffs that restrained him to the bed. He could get out of them if he wanted, if he really wanted. He didn’t want to go anywhere. The lights in the room dimmed and his eyes quickly adjusted, watching as she crossed the room toward him. “Comfortable?” Jeannette practically purred.
“Oh. Absolutely. This is how I prefer to spend my nights.” He snarked. Truth be told, Floyd wasn’t always one-hundred percent on board with the things she introduced into the bedroom. This kinky shit wasn’t always his style and giving up control certainly wasn’t something he liked. Jeannie, though, god , he was pretty sure he’d do anything for her.
(She could never know that.)
Her nails ran up his calf, sending a shiver down his spine. “Mouthy tonight.” She murmured. “We’re gonna have to fix that, hm?”
Jeannette positioned herself on the bed, crawling up so she was straddling his face. She got her fingers in his hair, pulling his face up so he was practically smothered in her crotch and she didn’t need to tell Floyd what she wanted. He ran his tongue up her slit and she was already fucking wet. Jeannette always tasted sweet and he just wanted to drink her down. He doesn’t get a choice in the matter because she’s going to force him to, going to ride his face until she comes.
His cock twitched at that thought.
(
Fuck
. What had she done to him?)
She made a pleased little noise but then it turned into something impatient, her hips rocking against his face. Her fingers gave his hair another tug and Floyd was sliding his tongue over her lips before he pushed it inside, lavishing her folds with attention. The strangled cry gave him all the positive feedback he needed before he stiffened his tongue, teasing her entrance. Her nails dug into his scalp and she ground her hips down against his face.
He was fully aware of what she wanted but he wasn't giving it to her, not yet because fuck it, he needed to have some power for himself. Jeannette couldn't have control all the time because if she did, what did that make him? Floyd couldn't see it, but he knew her face was twisted in pleasure, her dark eyes closed and lips parted as she made those noises that drove him wild. He drug his tongue up her folds, finally giving in to what she wanted because the sooner Jeannie was satisfied, the sooner he would be. Floyd slowly rolled his tongue over her clit, pausing to smirk when he heard her breath hitch, felt her fingers tighten in his hair.
“Don’t stop.” She mumbled and her wish was his command. His tongue rolled over her clit again and again before his lips closed over it, sucking gently. Jeannie was soaked, he could feel her body begin to tremble and she was so fucking close. He needed to bring her over. His tongue was back on her clit, lapping at the swollen nub until she was shaking, until she was moaning above him and goddammit -- he wished she could scream, wished she could really let go like he knew she wanted to.
Floyd coached her through her orgasm, his tongue moved to her entrance, lapped at her wetness until her fingers released his hair. He heard her take a few shaky breaths before climbing off his face, allowing him to suck in the air he had been lacking. He knew his face was soaked, stubble and mustache glistening with her wetness and fuck , that was hot. “Satisfied?” He smirked up to her. “Or do you need more?”
“Has anyone ever told you you talk too much?” Jeannette rolled her eyes, moving along the side of the bed.
“You mentioned it earlier. Something ‘bout me bein’ mouthy and you were supposed to fix it? Your plan didn’t seem to work, darlin’.”
“Who said that was my plan?”
Something about the way she said that stirred something in him, made his cock twitch again. Precum was already leaking from the tip, sliding down his shaft and Floyd almost wanted to beg, wanted to promise to keep his damned mouth shut as long as she’d give him some relief. As if God was answering his prayers for once, Jeannette was climbing back onto the bed, straddling his hips.
There was no big lead up, no more teasing, no more snarking. Instead, her hand wrapped around the base of his cock, guiding him inside of her and Floyd tossed his head back, groaning as he finally found some form of relief. Her hands were on his chest, nails biting into the flesh as she began to rock her hips against his. This was when Floyd really struggled with the restraint part. He wanted to get his hands on her hips, guide her at the pace he wanted, not the one she chose. Wanted to pull her down and crash their lips together, wanted to get one of those beautiful breasts in his hands. But he was under her mercy.
(Did he want to be anywhere else?)
Soft hands slid up his chest until they were at his neck, fingers tracing over the skin delicately. “Do you trust me, darling?” She asked, her head tilted to the side. Floyd could only blink up at her. She chose to ask that
now
, when he was deep inside of her, hardly managing to hang on as their hips rolled together. The truth was he trusted her more than he trusted most. He put his life in her hands whenever there was a mission, trusted her whenever they were together that she
wouldn’t
let go completely and scream, even if she wanted to. Floyd couldn’t find his voice, instead, he nodded.
“Good. Because I think I know how to fix that mouth of yours -- at least for now.” She said before her hands were around his throat, pressing against his windpipe.
Floyd hadn’t been prepared for it and his mind instantly went to panic mode. How could it not when Jeannette -- super strength and all -- had her hands around his neck, preventing his lungs from sucking in air? But this was Jeannie, and he trusted her for a reason that was confusing even to him. After the panic faded, the darkness began to come over him, starting in the corners of his eyes until he no longer saw that beautiful face, all he saw was black. Static buzzed in his ears, his head getting spinny, but the pleasure .
It was like everything he felt was multiplied, every rock of her hips, the way she felt like velvet wrapped around him. It was always good but this was different. This was...perfection. He moaned , bucked up roughly into her the best he could, hands twisting in the restraints so he could grab at the bedsheets.
Then her hands were gone and Floyd was gasping for air, blinking through the darkness and the swimming dots that appeared afterwards. When his sight was back completely, Floyd was looking up at the goddess above him, watching as loose curls fell in her face, as her eyes closed and she focused solely on bringing herself pleasure, like she was fucking using him.
(Never before had he liked being used so much.)
Working against his restraints, Floyd angled his hips to thrust into her, bring her attention back to him and the moment. It worked. Her eyes were opened and she was looking down at him, pale lips parted as tiny noises of pleasure left her. “You gonna come for me again, Jeannie?” He purred up to her. “C’mon sweetheart, come for me. Wanna feel you come all over my cock.”
Mischief flickered in her eyes as she looked down at him, lips quirking into a smirk. “What did I say about being so mouthy?” She asked but her voice was breathy and she sounded so damned close. Her hands were back on his neck, cutting off his oxygen supply again.
Floyd didn’t give a damn, just wanted to get off, wanted her to get off. The darkness came back, so did the static and the fuzziness in his brain. Jeannette’s hips were picking up, she was bouncing on his cock now, her moans coming more frequently. He could hear her over the static but he couldn’t hear himself. He was pretty sure he was groaning, pretty sure he was louder than he’d ever been before.
Then she was tightening around him, her walls milking his cock as she came and Floyd was falling behind her, thrusting as deeply as he could manage as he emptied himself inside of her, murmuring her name.
Just as everything was about to go black and he was sure he was going to pass out, her hands were unwrapping from around his neck and she was leaning down, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. Jeannette climbed off of him, taking the time to undo the restraints that had him bound to the bed. Floyd blinked hazily, flexing his wrists to try and get the feeling back into his hands.
The bed shifted as she crawled in next to him, her body curling against his. “Are you feeling okay, darling?” She asked, kissing his neck before she was taking his wrist in her hands, massaging over the area where the handcuffs had bit into the skin.
“Never better.” He murmured, draping an arm around her and pulling her to his chest.