Mark gaped at you, eyes wide with shock. His gaze roved your body slowly, drinking in the matching set of lacy red lingerie that you had bought specifically to entice him that particular night. He swallowed thickly. It seemed to be working.
See, you had woken up that morning feeling particularly aroused. But the fact that you had to endure waiting all day for him to finish working on his videos had gradually transformed your mood from particularly aroused, to downright ravenous.
So, to pass the time, you went and bought the lingerie and decided to catch him off-guard the moment he enters your bedroom after he finished working.
Based on his reaction, it appeared your plan had come to successful fruition.
Slowly—almost tantalizingly—you walked up to him, bringing your faces just inches apart. You could see the hunger plainly written all over his features.
"You know," Mark said hoarsely. "You have no idea what you've just done."
You flashed him a seductive smile. "Then shut up and show me."
He tangled his fingers in your messy (h/c) locks and crushed your lips together. Blindly stumbling through the room, the two of you somehow managed to find the bed without breaking the kiss. Mark's hand crawled up your bare back, brushing delicately over the small clasp that held up the lacy red bra, before delving beneath it to rove around the large expanse of flesh. You loved it whenever he touched you like this—a pleasant melting sensation never failed to come about.
You both sat up, lips still locked as though glued together. The only thing that grounded you, keeping you from completely losing yourself as you hovered halfway above him, was the hand that he kept firmly latched to the back of your knee.
Your tongue slid against his lips, and Mark opened his mouth to allow your entrance. His mouth tasted sweet, like chocolate mixed with a hint of caramel. Vaguely, you wondered if he had eaten a Milky Way bar before coming into the room, but your thoughts quickly lost focus as his hands began to move.
He didn't seem to care much for the lingerie—he wasn't dragging out your intimacy like he usually did, at least—for his hands soon unclipped the strap that held the top part of your outfit up. It fluttered away from your skin and was thrown off the other side of the bed, where it lay forgotten.
Mark's warm hands immediately converged upon your breasts, rolling the pink nipples around his fingers as your mouths worked more heatedly. Lust was quickly seeping into every moment, spurring the two of you on and making your hearts ache for the need to be fully connected. You unconsciously moved closer to him, sliding into his lap and pressing your naked chest onto the thin fabric of his red flannel shirt. You shivered at the feeling, eyes half-opening, and you slowly broke the kiss.
Mark opened his eyes a moment later. He drank in the sight before him—loving the fact that all of it was his doing. You bought the lacy number to entice him, waited patiently for him to finish working, and were now looking up at him hungrily with those alluring (e/c) eyes of yours.
God she's beautiful, he thought to himself.
A small smile twinged your cheeks, as though reading his thoughts. Your fingers slid down his shirt, nails scraping delicately over the covered skin, before twirling teasingly over the spot where his manhood lay in wait. It wasn't difficult to find. The bump where his erection was anxiously waiting was obvious, and you wasted no time going in for the kill. You massaged him lightly with one hand, while the other moved back up to undo the buttons of his flannel. Your mouth connected with every bit of skin revealed, button-by-button, until the magnitude of his chest stood out gloriously before your hungry eyes. It didn't take very long to remove the rest of his clothing either, for you were quite ready to skip the usual foreplay after a painstaking day's worth of envisioning your actions.
Your mouth enclosed around his swelled cock a moment later.
Mark looked amazing when he was flustered, and it was precisely those reactions that motivated you to please him more than anything in the world. As your head bobbed up and down his shaft, you gazed up at him. For a while, your eyes stayed connected. But when you licked him a bit more thoroughly and began teasing his tip, his head slammed back into the pillows and his body arched pleasantly. A humming moan flew from his parted mouth. His eyes seemed unsure of how to react—opening to stare wide-eyed at the ceiling before shutting tightly again as he lost himself in the pleasure.
Your fingers dug into his hips, pushing them down as he tried to buck into your mouth. You raced your tongue along the underside of his member, before darting it back down and repeating your movements. Your free hand rubbed his inner thigh, silently telling him that he was allowed to release, that you would accept it, and that this pleasure was only the beginning of a promising night.
Mark's hands didn't move much, but rather stayed half-heartedly clenched by his head, pressing tightly against the pillow and the sheets. His eyes suddenly flew back down to lock your gazes once more. He seemed to be asking for permission to release. His jaw was tightly clenched—he was trying to keep himself controlled. His self-control was one of the things that you admired most about him, for it spoke true in a great many instances that had nothing to do with the bedroom.
You gave a light, teasing nibble to his tip and smiled, shooting him a smirk as you watched the frustration materialize in his features. Slowly, you replaced your mouth with your hand, pumping even harder and faster than the pace of your lips. You eyed him and nodded, silently telling him to let himself go.
And he did. His body came off the mattress as he released, hands grasping onto anything they could. Finally they found your hair, and he forced your mouth to cover him again—to take him in as he climaxed. You didn't mind. In fact, you relished his sudden display of dominance. You allowed him to push your head into his lap, and sucked wildly to heighten the power of his release. He tasted like nothing you'd ever had, but the fact that it was purely him made it all the more delicious. You had no qualms about swallowing; every bit of him was precious.
When Mark's body finally stopped reacting, and he just lay there panting and sweaty and pleasured, you came up to crawl to his side. A small bead of his release dribbled down your chin, intensifying the sexy look that he was suddenly overcome by. He groaned, feeling another wave of desire roll off of him. He leaned up to kiss you, wiping away the substance before delving into your mouth and tasting himself on your tongue. It was so deliciously passionate, so wonderfully intense, and Mark wasn't at all surprised when he found himself reversing your positions so that it was you who was pinned down beneath him.
He was well aware of the fact that your neck was one of your most sensitive areas, and he rained kisses down upon it, brushing his lips over every inch of skin, before slowly moving lower and lower. He wasted no time getting rid of the only article of clothing left on your body. He placed one of your thighs over his shoulder and, without warning, buried his face within the sweet heat of the space between your legs, running his tongue over your little nub of pleasure. You cried out, but immediately tried to stifle the sound by placing the sheets over your mouth.
He stopped his actions and replaced his mouth with his hands, inserting first one finger into your core, then another, and pumped in and out at a fast pace. His thumb continued to run over the sensitive bundle of nerves, and your muffled gasps became steadily more audible.
Moving up towards you, he continued the actions of the hand that was stimulating your lower areas, but used the other to remove the sheet that you kept over your mouth. He muffled your sounds with his own lips, then pulled away panting. "I want to hear you, (y/n)."
Mark went back down to your sweet heat, placing the sheets out of your reach so that you could no longer suppress your gasps of pleasure. He replaced his hand with his mouth, and was immediately rewarded a moan of his name. He intensified his movements, and your gasps became louder and more enjoyable. The pressure in your body built up like a tightly wound spring, until finally you came with a drawn-out cry.
You put your hands over your face and stayed like that for a while, wheezing for air. It had been a while since you felt that satiated. He removed your hands and gave you what was supposed to be just a gentle peck on the lips, but as was inevitable, the kiss eventually escalated and became more heated.
Your body was craving him, wanting him, needing him to be inside of you. You pulled away from the kiss and looked up to meet your lover's cocoa-colored eyes. You didn't mean to speak. You didn't aim to make your voice sound husky with need. You didn't intend to tell him so bluntly just how aroused you had gotten from your actions. You didn't plan on saying anything at all, but regardless of the consequences, you did anyway.
"Mark Edward Fischbach."
A wave of excitement and desire like no other coursed through him, for you seldom ever referred to him in this manner—and when you did, it usually meant something either really bad or really good was about to take place. Based on the circumstances, it had to be the latter.
Your eyes flashed intensely. "I want you to fuck me. Hard."
Mark's lips curled into a sultry smirk. "You didn't need to tell me," he said briskly, eyes gleaming with mad desire. "That's what I'd planned on doing anyway."