Title: Move Like U Stole It
Author(s): Belah & Delilaah
Pairing(s): Roman Reigns & Dean Ambrose
Rating: NC-17
Summary: "...he could sense something shift, lifting his eyes to focus on Roman's face. His expression didn't change, but his eyes look darker, his lips quirked up. There was a sort of tension that hadn't been present before. Like a cat readying to pounce."
Warning(s): Kink. A lot, of kink. Spanking, autoerotic asphyxiation, Daddy.
Note(s): Title is a song by ZZ Ward, go listen … ;)
Move Like U Stole It
He couldn't deny he was happy to be back in their hotel room, pressed close to Roman while they watched a replay of the week's Raw. The smile that spread across his face during Roman's promo was a mix of pride and amusement. Dean could tell his confidence was growing, it was evident in the way he carried himself. The more relaxed way he addressed the crowd, how he engaged them. Roman was letting go of his persona as The Shield's enforcer and letting himself shine through.
"You really got 'em goin' Monday, didn't you?" Winking at Roman, teasingly.
Dark, thick hair spilled forward, obscuring his face as he ducked his head down with a grin that was almost shy. "I'm getting there I think."
Ever aware of being too proud. Dean thought to himself, his smile only growing.
"I've got a while before I'm in your league," he told Dean, giving him a playful shove. "But I'll get there."
"Damn right you will," Dean assured him with a nod as he took a swig of the beer he'd been nursing for the past half an hour. He settled back in on the mattress, laying himself on his back, watching the TV as his head hung from the edge of the bed, not caring that the images were upside down.
His arms started to tingle, the tell-tale sign of sleeping limbs beginning to set in, forcing him to reposition himself once again. Roman didn't seem to notice, focusing on the television, as always trying to learn something new, something he could improve upon. He loved that about him, his desire to always outdo himself.
With a lazy stretch of his body, Dean shifted to drape his body against Roman's, head resting on bare skin as he hooked denim clad leg over Roman's, smiling at how the fabric of the shorts Roman wore, bunched up on his leg. Dean found that he made the perfect pillow for lazing around and watching television. Roman was of a similar height and had a wonderfully broad upper body. It was a luxury he'd not had in previous relationships, one he loved to take advantage of at every opportunity.
As the pace and storylines on the screen shift, he found himself watching Roman more than the replay. Vaguely aware of what was occurring on screen, he could hear his own voice as he mocked Seth. As he referred to Hunter as his Daddy, he could sense something shift, lifting his eyes to focus on Roman's face. His expression didn't change, but his eyes look darker, his lips quirked up. There was a sort of tension that hadn't been present before. Like a cat readying to pounce.
Oh well then… A pleased, smug smirk pulled at the corners of Dean's lips as the pieces seemed to click into place.
"Something you like, Princess?" He teased, voice raising to the playful sing-song lilt it took during promos. He shifted slowly, using the broad chest beside him, palm pressed flat to the heated flesh, pushing to his knees. He sat straddling one of Roman's thighs, noting how thick just a single leg was beneath him, knowing full-well what those legs were capable of.
Roman's hands spoke for him, sliding down Dean's body and settling firmly on his ass. Thick fingers clutched hard at the flesh to pull Dean closer, their bodies pressed flush at the hips.
"I'll take that as a yes. Wonder what it could be. Hmm…" voice still the same teasing tone as his fingers trailed up hard muscle to grip Roman's shoulders. "It's not me telling Seth off. I do that all the time. Did I do something different?"
Roman still didn't speak. Instead he opted to level Dean with a glare, somehow still burning with heat. Roman darted in to press his mouth to Dean's firmly. Blonde hair messy, curls hanging in his face, Dean's lips turned into his patented smug smirk, dimples and all. He was no where near ready to give up the little game he'd just started. "I know you like when my hair curls, Princess. Though, that's nothing new either…"
"Shut the hell up Dean," Roman growled. He quickly gripped the blonde's smaller wrists, flipping their position. The broad expanse of his body was an advantage next to Dean's narrow frame. An advantage he never hesitated to use against him. Their nearly matching heights made it hard for him to gain the upper hand most times, but like this? This he could work with, using his mass to trap Dean beneath him, grey eyes focusing on the drowning blue of the ones below him.
"Where's the fun in that," Dean started, realizing what must have been the trigger, as his voice lowered, softened to what could only be described as a purr. "...Daddy?"
What little control Roman had retained dissipated in that moment. Dean quickly found his thighs parted with the rough, fluid force Roman typically showcased in-ring, reminding him as always of a large, feral cat as he slotted their hips together. An appropriate comparison as Roman's eyes grew darker, like some deep, swirling, pool of hunger behind the gray.
Roman's cock was more than half-hard at just the light teasing and Dean realized at that moment that he'd discovered a very powerful weapon. A low, rumble of a laugh slipped past his lips as he reached his arm up, combing his fingers through the long soft hair hanging down around Roman's face, tucking it back behind his ear. He dropped his voice to a low, barely audible purr, keeping his eyes focused on Roman's, "Mm, that all you got, Daddy?"
Roman's jaw clenched and and his eyes fell closed as Dean's words rang in his ears. He steeled himself against the sharp coil of lust that built in his body, trying to regain some semblance of his shattered control.
Dean was easily the most infuriating creature he had known. And yet, somehow, he also happened to be the sexiest man he'd ever laid eyes on. He was hard muscle, a stubbled jaw, impish blue eyes, and an unbelievably seductive grin. Dean was raw masculinity coupled with a delicious shoulder to waist ratio and Roman found it intoxicating.
"I fucking hate you." He growled as he jerked Dean up by his shirt and pulled the thin fabric up over his head, throwing it away in disgust. Large hands, calloused fingers, found their way to a narrow waist as Roman's mouth sought out the base of Dean's neck.
If Dean could tease, so could Roman. Keeping him pinned under his weight, Roman parted his lips, raking his teeth against the throbbing pulse in Dean's neck. He ground his hips down against Dean's causing them both to moan out loud. Roman pressed his teeth down into the flesh. Clamped down until the skin threatened to give way, until Dean's bravado began to falter. Until it gave way, breaking as Roman's teeth punctured skin, the faintest hint of copper just a tease.
Dean shivered, a whimper of a moan forcing past his lips as his fingers tightened in Roman's hair, pulling him closer, wanting more. Needing more. Pinned beneath Roman's weight, he whined, biting his lip as he looked up through thick lashes. "Daddy," he whispered, forcing his grip to relax, curling his fingers in Roman's hair, "don't tease…"
"And why shouldn't I?" Roman growled, voice deep and firm in a way Dean was not yet accustomed to. "All you fucking do is tease me." His fingers worked open the button of Dean's jeans, and made quick work of the zipper. He jerked them down roughly, enjoying the little pained sounds that fell from Dean's lips as he went.
"Get up. I want you on hands and knees, ass in the air. If you want to behave like a little brat, then I'll treat you like one."
Dean opened his mouth to reply but quickly decided against it, lips pressed tight as he stared into Roman's eyes. Where there should have been gray, he saw only pools of black, leaving no question to the seriousness of Roman's command. Knowing that the only thing left to do was obey.
The small hitch of Roman's breath caught Dean's attention as he settled to his knees at the head of the bed, fingers gripping the headboard. He couldn't resist as the urge to tease, to torment Roman the only way he knew he could, wiggling his ass, exaggerating the movement as if finding a comfortable position.
Roman responded in kind, opting for a sharp, quick slap across his bare ass, rather than using his words. Dean gasped and pushed his hips back toward Roman, feeling the mattress dip as the other man pressed up behind him obviously bare and pleased with the sight before him.
"Now then Pet, do you think you can behave?" Roman didn't give Dean the chance to respond as he tangled his fingers into Dean's hair, pulling his head back, looking into his eyes. "No, I don't think you can," he smirked, jerking Dean's head back further, pulling harder at his hair. "I can see the mischief in your eyes, Pet… Though, I'd expect no less from you."
His statement is punctuated by the resounding blow to the swell of Dean's ass. The impact strong enough to knock Dean forward, throwing him off balance, face buried into the pillows, his moans muffled. Roman is pleased by the reaction and lands a series of similar strikes to Dean's skin. "God your skin marks so pretty, honey. Maybe next time you misbehave, I'll use something that will leave a more lasting impression."
The sound that escaped Dean's mouth only fueled Roman further, earning him a series of blows that alternated between sharp and quick to hard and lingering. The warmth of Dean's abused skin was intoxicating as Roman let his palm soothe over the reddened, stinging flesh.
Roman's hands slid down to grip the back of Dean's thighs and he pressed in close. He parted his lips pressed a sloppy kiss to the reddened flesh of Dean's ass before raking his teeth across abused skin and was rewarded with a whimper from Dean. Though he could not tell if it was one of pleasure, or pain. Not that it mattered.
"I think you're ready, aren't you, Pet?" He kept his voice low, letting his breath tease over the sensitized flesh of his beaten ass.
"Ready for what, Daddy?" He teases, knowing he shouldn't but unable to help himself in that moment as he wiggled his sore, stinging ass back toward Roman.
As he looked back over his shoulder he knew he was in trouble. The soft gray of Roman's eyes was a roaring storm, his jaw tensed and muscles stiff. Strong hands gripped Dean's hips and he found himself being flipped over onto his back, his thighs pressed up over Roman's shoulders. Their hips aligned and Dean could feel exactly what Roman had in store for him, hot, throbbing, and impossibly hard slotted against his thigh.
"Oh is that all?" Dean found the temptation too difficult to resist. "I've had that a million times I thought I was in trouble?" He looked up to Roman, winking playfully. "Or is that the best you got?"
Dean attempts to continue speaking were quickly cut short by the strong grip of calloused fingers on his throat, limiting his air supply. Roman's eyes were lit with something Dean couldn't quite define, just knowing it could lead to nothing good.
"Keep running your mouth Pet, and you won't get to enjoy this." He spoke as he released his hold and reached under the pillow to retrieve the bottle of lube they'd left earlier that morning. His eyes remained focused on Dean as he slicked his thick fingers, as he used powerful legs to spread Dean's thighs wide. The corner of his mouth turned up into a pleased smirk, as he stared down at Dean, daring him to sass back. Dean didn't though, not as Roman's fingers teased at his entrance. Calloused, slick fingertips worked the sensitive nerve endings of his hole before pressing into his body firmly.
Dean struggled to regain his focus, breathing deep as he forced his eyes open to meet Roman's. "Oh? What makes you think I didn't enjoy your fingers at my throat? The lack of air in my lungs? Or are you going to punk out like always?" He licked his lips, head tilting slightly to the side, inquisitive eyes locked on Roman's. "Well, Daddy?"
"Its adorable that you think I've even started, honey." Roman's laughter was without cheer as he pushed himself forward and drove his cock deep into Dean's body, not stopping until he was buried to the hilt. He steadied himself and let his eye meet Dean's again, and gave him a wink before he wrapped his hand back around Dean's throat and clamped down hard. Roman set into a ruthless pace then, his hips pumping forward.
Dean's head dropped back against the pillow beneath his head, body arching up to meet Roman's thrusts. His lips parted as if to moan, the fingers at his throat cutting off any sound. Frantic, desperate fingers reached up to Roman's arms, fingers curling and clawing down over the toned flesh, vision blurring at the edges.
Roman was keenly aware of Dean's body, of how he responded to stimuli. He relaxed his grip and at the same instant slowed the pace of his hips into a teasing grind. The moan that escaped Dean at that moment seemed to be one of loss and Roman took it as a challenge. He kept the grip on Dean's throat loose, just enough to remind him that his hand was there while he sped the rhythm of his hips, working himself deeper and deeper into Dean's body angling the motion to hit Dean in all the right spots.
The easing of pressure at his throat sent Dean gasping for breath, feeling the weight, the promise, of that grip lingering as his hand remained. Roman's hair spilled like a curtain around them both, as he leaned in close, teeth biting at Dean's lips. "You're mine, Pet. I think you've forgotten that," he growled through his teeth, the words almost a hiss as he tasted blood on his tongue. "Your mouth, your ass, all of you." He growls low, punctuating his words with sharp, deep thrusts of his hips, forcing broken whimpers from Dean.
His eyes watched the muscles shift beneath the ink covering Roman's arm as breathing, once again, became increasingly difficult. Roman's pace increased, all finesse removed as he pressed down harder on Dean's throat, his hips pounding into Dean's. The impact of their bodies colliding rang out in the room as Roman watched Dean's face closely. When he saw consciousness beginning to slip away from Dean he drove his hips forward as deeply as he could manage, using his free hand to send a firm slap to the side of Dean's ass.
"Let go for me Pet, let Daddy feel you fall apart."
And he did just that, head thrown back with a silent cry, body glistening with sweat as his muscles spasmed and trembled, hands gripping and tangling in the sheets as he came and all his walls crumbled. Roman had stripped him of his shields, as only he was able, leaving a raw, submissive pet in the ruins. His pet.
The sight was easily the most erotic thing Roman had ever witnessed. It overwhelmed him completely and he could no longer deny his own needs. He let his hands fall from Dean's neck and gripped his thighs, pushing them further apart and drove himself forward over and over into the tight clutch of Dean's body until he couldn't hold out any longer. His head fell back with a roar and his release floods Dean's body in hot bursts leaving Roman wrung out and barely able to support his own weight as his hips slow and his mouth finds its way Dean's kissing him slow and deep, possessive.
"Who do you belong to, Pet?" He breathed low and heavy against Dean's lips, cradling his body close.
Dean shivered, lifting his eyes up to Roman. "Daddy."
"Damn right…"
