a/n: [takes a deep breath] i've never written anything like this, but i'm fascinated about the aftercare aspect of dom/sub relationships, i don't know if fascinated is the right word but it's the only one that makes sense to me, so... anyway, i've read a lot of stories about sex between the dom and submissive but not so much the aftercare part, so i'm going to try and explore that along with the sex. "crazy in love" by beyonce the fifty shades of grey version was my main inspiration but several other songs will be used throughout the fic and my oc's face claim is phillipa soo from the broadway musical hamilton. /this turned out to be 9000 words and i worked so hard on it, do not favorite this without leaving a review.
~*~craving sweet nothings~*~
pairing: roman reigns/oc
summary: sir always knows just what his kitten needs/or roman knows how to take care of his girl
rating: m
[one month ago]
i look and stare so deep in your eyes/i touch on you more and more everytime
~.~
crazy in love
beyonce
Coming down from the high... Her mind is racing, it's on the tip of her tongue, her deepest desires but she doesn't know... He seems to like exerting his strength, but then he's so gentle... A teddy underneath all of that gorgeous rippling and bulging muscle, so maybe he wouldn't? But you'll never know if you don't ask him a voice reminds from the deep recesses of her brain. Could she be that bold, though? Could she actually vocalize what she wants, craves? Maybe even... needs a darker voice needles just as soft, seeking lips find her decolletage and start to suck making her sigh, her brain clouding with desire once again.
"Where'd you go?" Rumbling sweetly from that expansive chest. Her heart stops, briefly, those warm chocolate eyes... Unobscured by the cold grey contacts he wears to the ring, it's too much.
"I'm right here," A perfected coo, slipping into the facade of the seductress like she's done so many times on stage or on screen.
"Are you..." His voice trails away and those eyes turn serious, brow burrowing. He looks so concerned her stomach can't help but twist, guilt creeping in. There's no reason to be worried; she's right here, where else would she be, but... It's there – the desire, the want – maybe if she just tells him... But... Her cheeks burn with the thought of his rejection, her skin prickling with goosebumps. She tries to turn her head, but he doesn't let her. He keeps her head straight so her eyes are staring into his and she can't look away, and all she can think is what it would be like to have his fingers closing around her neck, his palm branded in red on her ass... "daddy" wrenched from her throat or maybe... "Look at me," An order if there ever was one and no not daddy... no... Her throat bobs... "sir" on her tongue's tip.
"You said you're right here, but I know you're not. I know you."
Her skin grows hotter underneath his stare, that's piercing right through her. It's only been months but she swears he knows her better than she knows herself. Her resolve starts to crumble... Maybe she should just fess up, reveal her secret like she's ripping the proverbial band-aid, but... "Leilani..."
That baritone – so rich and warm – saying her name is her undoing.
"You.. I... I've been... Thinking, maybe... We don't have to, if you don't want to... I just..." A low chuckle, his chest vibrating with the sound against her back, slows down the runaway train of her thoughts. He presses a soft kiss to her shoulder, goatee and moustache scratching the smoothness of her skin and she goes boneless, instantly. "Breathe, baby," Nose nuzzling the swan-like curve of her neck.
"Have you ever thought," Here goes nothing; rip off that band aid, like Nike said just do it. "About BDSM?" Said in such a rush, she doubts he could distinguish her words.
"Like whips and chains? Tying you up? Putting a scarf around your eyes? That kind of stuff?"
"Nooooooooo..." Her voice sounding squeaky to her own ears as her cheeks burn more. "More like – well, yeah I mean you could tie me up, I wouldn't mind – but I was thinking about punishment?" Her voice goes high on the word, her eyes suddenly fascinated by her hands, which are wringing.
"What my lady wants..." Smooth and sensual, lips grazing her shoulder once more. "Rome..." Squirming against him, a satisfied mewl tumbling off her lips as his teeth bite and then suck. "Seriously, though... Is that... Would you... How would we? Do you even want to?"
"I'll admit, I've never thought about something like this. The last thing I want to do is hurt you, so if we're doin' this, we're gonna do some research and start small. I'd never be able to forgive myself if this went too far and I hurt you."
Her heart soars... How could he pummel men twice his size, roar with the ferocity of a lion and dish out beatings on a nightly basis and also be so gentle and hold her like she was a precious gem? Twisting in his arms, so they're face to face and pressed front to front, she bends and he moves forward, their lips meeting at the perfect time. This kiss is lazy, exploring and their hands are roaming, fingers seeking any inch of skin they can find. Pulling back, she can't help but burn under the intensity of his stare; so loving but with a hint of – her pulse quickens – danger lurking.
Her nipples tighten into peaks as hard as diamonds while she feels heat flood to the very heart of her.
"You would never," The most confident she's sounded all night. "You trust me?" He counters, pushing dark strands behind her ear. "More than anyone." An easy reply if there ever was one.
let me see you/stripped down to the bone/let me see you/stripped down to the bone
~.~
stripped
shiny toy guns
They hadn't discussed when they would try and she wasn't sure if enough time had passed since her suggestion for her to be worried they never would, that he had only been placating her. Except he would never string her along like that. It was rare – with her unpredictable schedule as an actress and his much stricter, travel heavy schedule – that they were in the same city at the same time. Under normal circumstances, she was usually flying to him. On his rare days off, he would always come to her, the beach boy learning to enjoy the wonders of the concrete jungle of New York.
Breathless and giggling, her skin flushing pink from the fireball and tequila – cast parties were soooooooooo muuuuuuuuuuuuch fuuuuuuuuuuuun – she juggles her keys, shooing away Renee who is trying to mother hen her - "I'm -" hiccup! "Fine!"
And, seriously, she is. She's been drunker before. She's buzzed, really, because she can for sure hold her liquor. The key slides through the deadbolt and as soon as she steps through the door there's Pashmina – her Persian – rubbing against the six inch heel of her Louboutain, an indulgence she treated herself with after she had booked her first Broadway show – and she rubs the kitten's fluff, bending to nuzzle noses. As she straightens, she hears heavy footfalls coming through the hallway and her heart siezes... She's heard horror stories from castmates... Fans sneaking in, somehow finding out where you live...
"You said you would be home all night..."
Roman
"Seriously?! You couldn't have turned on a light or texted me that you would be here? You scared..."
He's right in front of her, finger reaching to press her lips together. Her eyes flash to his and she has to swallow. She's never seen his eyes so detatched, so dangerous. It's like they're staring right through her. Her thighs start to quiver as her knees lock together to keep herself upright.
A small smirk curls at his plush lips, which makes her feel less unstea dy but as quickly as it was there, it disappeared. "Tonight you don't speak unless I give you permission. Tonight you don't cum unless I give you permission. You don't so much as breathe, without my permission. Do you understand me?"
Her tongue is like sandpaper, stuck to the roof of her equally dry mouth. She couldn't speak even if she wanted to. All she can do is nod.
"I don't want to punish you..." He shakes his head, sadly. "But you need to learn. You said you would be here when my flight landed, that you didn't have any plans except waiting for me. Imagine how furious I was to come home all the way from the airport and find the loft empty? You know how rare it is for our schedules to be in sync, how precious those days are. Do you know how much time has been wasted because you couldn't wait for me?"
"I..." The word leaves her lips without a second thought. I have a right to defend myself, she thinks.
"I told you; tonight you don't speak unless I give you permission. Stand at the foot of your bed, legs spread as wide as possible and flip up your dress. If you say another word, I'll be adding ten spankings to the twenty you already have waiting for you. If you move," He bends, his fingers moving away from her lips to the slope of her neck, the curve of her shoulder and skimming along the curves of her body – purposefully ignoring her breast – before reaching around and groping her ass cheek. "I'll know. Remember; legs spread as far as you can, flip up your dress and stand at the foot of your bed."
let me see you/stripped down to the bone/let me hear you crying/just for me
~.~
stripped
shiny toy guns
The walk to her bedroom feels foreign, as if she's never walked this hallway before. Her heart is both threatening to leap from her chest and suspended in her throat. Walking across the threshold, it's like her eyes have to adjust to the familiar royal blues and silvers of her bedroom. Her stomach clenches with anticipation and nerves, as she assumes the position he demanded of her; standing at the foot of her bed, legs spread as far as possible and her dress flipped up.
The cool air hitting her bare ass is in sharp contrast to the heat simmering in her veins. Her mind is racing, wondering how long he'll keep her waiting, if this is part of her 'punishment,' being forced to wait and to wrestle with the anticipation of just when he'll enter the room.
Her legs begin to wobble, how long she's been waiting, she doesn't know but she can feel a whine rising in her throat, his name "rooooooooman," on the tip of her tongue. Doesn't he know how much she needs him? How her thighs are rubbing together, how wet she already is?
She bites down on her lip to keep from crying out his name just as she hears his heavy footfalls. He's right behind her; his cologne – spice, orange and the crisp cleanliness of the ocean – tickles her nose.
"You'll count each spanking one by one. If you miss a number, we start over. After you count, I want you to say; thank you, sir, may I have another. Tell me what I want you to do."
"I'm going to..." Her voice falters; her skin is cool, her dress bunched around her hips revealing her bare ass but his voice...Low and demanding, it's like fire; his hot breath, right there, against her ear. "I'm going to..." She swallows, struggling to think about anything but the ache between her legs; she's practically dripping, she's so wet and so empty.
Her vision blurrs at the edges... Her heart's pounding, she needs... "Shhhhh, baby, I know just what you need. But I can't give it to you, until you tell me what I want you to do."
"I... You're..." A shaky breath as she reminds herself to focus. "I'm going to count each spanking one by one. If I miss a number, you're going to start over. After I count, you want me to say thank you sir may I have another."
"Good girl..." Her face scrunches; she doesn't like that – good girl – it's too... It's not... She wants to pout, to stomp her foot and huff, but she barely regains her breath when his palm meets her right ass cheek with a resounding thwack! Her body jolts forward, her legs wobbling and she nearly collapses forward... He steadies her, gripping her wrists and bending, "I got you..." He trails before laying a soft kiss against her pulse point, "Kitten."
Her heart leaps in her chest. Kitten... Kitten... Sooooo much better, she's practically purring and then she remembers, "One. Thank you sir; may I have another," and there's a nuzzle of his nose in the same spot he kissed and her stomach fills with butterflies. The last thing she would want is to upset Sir.
Nineteen spankings and one earth shattering orgasm later, she can't stand anymore... She's boneless and she collapses against him. Everything's blurry but in focus. All she knows are gentle murmurs and soft kisses. Piercing through the haze is "what's your color?" They agreed – during their many talks about this – to go with the traditional stoplight system. Green for good, yellow for slow down and red for stop.
"Green..." Barely a mumble and there's a soft kiss against her forehead. "You sure?"
"Green..." She murmurs sinking further into his arms, laying her head along his shoulder, staring up with unfocused chestnut eyes but a smile gracing her exotic features.
cuz i know i don't understand/just how your love can do what no one else can
~.~
crazy in love
beyonce
A month had past since the first BDSM experience Leilani and Roman had shared together. It went better than she could have ever hoped, but neither had mentioned anything about it since then. It was as if they were both too nervous and embarrassed to bring it up again. Nevertheless, she was starting to feel that itch again. That itch that only Roman... and maybe a pair of handcuffs... or maybe – a thrilling shiver rushes up her spine from the thought – a collar... could scratch.
Finally, both had time to breathe between their hectic schedules, holed up in Boston after Hell In A Cell, which had been hard to watch. Seeing him with the chain inside of his mouth and Rusev applying his finisher, made bile rise in her throat as she struggled to stay focused, not wanting to look away and miss seeing his hand being raised.
She knew he was keeping the United States Championship, but she hadn't expected the brutal tone of the match. Last year, when he had his first Hell In A Cell match against Bray Wyatt, she was blissfully unaware of the WWE. Her heart was in her throat as she wrung her hands, waiting for the moment when he would power out of Rusev's Acolade, like he said he was going to.
A whimper escaped as her mind took her back to the match while they were snuggling and then she felt the soft pressure of his lips against her temple, the simple gesture bringing her, again, into the here and now.
"The match wasn't that bad..." There's a teasing in his rich baritone, and she slaps him across the chest, snapping indignantly, "That's easy for you to say."
"Didn't you like playing instagram photographer?" More teasing, his breath tickling her ear as he references her shooing away the intern who normally took the instagram photos for the company.
"Can you blame me?" Her chestnut eyes go wide, pert mouth falling open with indignation. "If I didn't shoo her away, she would've started humping your leg like a bitch in heat, backstage, in front of everyone. I doubt Calvin Dunne..." He can't help but start laughing as he shakes his head, interrupting, "It's Kevin Dunn, baby, not Calvin Dunne."
"Dunne, Dunn whatever," Leilani mumbles, rolling her eyes. "The point is; I doubt he requested the company put out a picture of your bare back with the title slung over your shoulder."
"Does that mean I can crash the set and make sure you're fully clothed 100% of the time?" Roman is practically growling and Leilani can feel her thighs clench and unclench, her train of thought suddenly refocusing on trying the BDSM with Roman again.
A shaky breath tumbles off her parted lips as he moves his mouth from her ear to the pulse point in her neck, a weak spot. Moaning as she squirms against him, she bites down on her lip, tongue running over her teeth as she sinks further into his embrace, enjoying the feel of his hard, thick body against her soft frame. It's so archaic, she thinks, how much more attractive he is to her because the strength inside his impressive frame. But then most of the men who shared her bed before him were his polar opposite; lithe and lean or sinewy and graceful, some even slightly nerdy... Whatever was deemed fashionable by stage directors or television and movie casting directors.
None of them were so powerful, so strong... Her thighs clenched and unclenched, as if she were feeling each resounding thwack from his palm on each of her ass cheeks.
"I was wondering... I thought, I mean... I'm thinking, maybe..."
"We could try the BDSM stuff again?" There's a knowing tone behind Roman's voice and Leilani sighs as she rolls over, straddling his thick waist, legs slung over each sculpted oblique. "How... Why... What made you think that's what I was going to ask you?"
"You're blushing," He teases, bending his head so their noses touch lightly. "I like when you blush," He assures when he sees her nose scrunch and brows furrow into a frown. "So you wanna try again, huh?"
"I was thinking – only if you want to," Leilani adds hastily. "That we could play that way again and also, if you wanted, you could..." Her voice then trails away into quiet mumbling, her blush deepening.
"You'll have to speak up, Lei," More teasing, those chocolate eyes melting into warm caramel in his irises. "We talked about it, you said..." Leilani squirms, unsure if she really wants to admit that she would like a collar, maybe he had been joking? Maybe he only wanted to spank her and anything else would be too wild?
"What did I say..." A warm rumble from deep in his chest, washing over her, giving her the courage. "You said you wanted to get me a collar, something for me to have when you were away. I think I would really... really like one..." An exhale of a soft breath, peering from behind her eyelashes as she murmured, "Sir."
A darkness – one that's slowly becoming familiar – takes over the caramel of his irises, they're almost black now and staring right through her. Even in the dark of the room her blush is obvious as his large palm reaches up to cup her cheek.
He bends, his lips hovering over hers, and she wants to close the gap – so badly – but she remains still. Sir hasn't given his explicit permission for her to breathe, let alone kiss him. And only good kittens get their rewards. Her heart leaps because she's learning and she wants to tell him so, because then he'll be proud of her...
"You would look so pretty," His hand wrapping around her throat, gentle but the pressure is there, making her pussy throb. "With a collar. So pretty." More pressure is applied and she can't stop the whorish moan from falling off her lips. "If that's what Kitten wants..."
"Please, Sir..."
"I have the European tour for the next two weeks, if you're a good Kitten a package will be waiting for you..." His voice trails off, promise hanging in the air.
"Please..." She begs, practically panting at the thought, making a warm smile titl the plushness of his lips. "So eager, just like a good Kitten should be," and then his lips seal over hers while she goes slack against his hulking frame.
when i talk to my friends so quietly/who he think he is/look at what you did to me
~.~
crazy in love
beyonce
The end of the two weeks since Roman had gone on his European tour were almost over, and Leilani was starting to get anxious. Being in Europe made phone sex a tricky thing, something they relied on as being in the same city was so rare, and she hated being so needy, but in all honesty she felt like she had phantom limb syndrom. Being apart from him – even after only being together for a few short months – felt like torture. Also knowing that the package would be arriving some point during the two weeks he was gone wasn't helping.
"You're being ridiculous," Leilani hissed as she swiped mascara across her lashes. She was getting ready for breakfast with Renee and Jasmine, and though she had been up since eight – they were meeting at ten – she had only – fifteen minutes ago at 9: 15, started doing her makeup.
Only he was capable of this; shaking her world from an ocean away. Of course, she wasn't the most patient of people, anyway and she had a feeling this was part of the game; making her wait. He knew how desperate she had been for the collar,practically panting and begging, so obviously needing more than just his hand around her throat.
After applying a coat of gloss to her lips, Leilani grabbed her clutch purse and gave Pashmina a pet before leaving.
The sun felt wonderful on her bare shoulders as she sipped at a mimosa and laughed with her fellow Schuyler Sisters. Though, both Renee and Jasmine were older, they had clicked from the first rehersal. Their lives were so different – Renee had two children and Jasmine was married and trying – and she, a blush crept to the surface of her cheeks as she thought of Roman, was in a months-old relationship with a man who she was sure already owned every part of her.
"Oooooh," Jasmine teased, nudging her leg underneath the table. "Someone's blushing. You're thinkin' about your man, aren't you? That is definitely an I'm thinkin' about my man blush."
"Maybe," Leilani sing-songed coyly, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. She felt giddy and light, like a school girl who was fawning over the quarterback. But Roman was so much more than a fleeting crush, than an infatuation... He was, a soft sigh escaped her lips, everything.
"Girl..." Renee laughed knowingly, shaking her head. "You have got it b-a-d, BAD."
Leilani couldn't deny the older woman was right. But how could she? With just a look Roman could have her knees quaking. No man had ever held such power over her. Just thinking of him had her thighs clenching and unclenching. He was more than she ever expected him to be. Her teeth scraped along her bottom lip, drawing the flesh in as she nibbled, imagining what an explosive reunion they would have when he finally came back from Europe. How it would feel to be in his arms again. What it would be like to taste his lips again after so long. She was sure she would be wet from just being in his presence; breathing in the scent of his cologne, feeling the thick muscles of his chest, watching the rippling muscles of his biceps and triceps flex with every move he makes.
She could feel her lips curve, once her nibbling stopped. Looking at the other women from behind her lashes, she murmured, "Can you blame me? You've both seen Roman."
anytime you wanna pick up the telephone/you know it ain't nothin' drop a couple stacks on you/ you want it/you can get it, my dear
~.~
whatever you like
anya marina
Breakfast had been wonderful. Since her year-long run as Eliza Schuyler had ended in June, Leilani found it hard to catch up with Renee and Jasmine since she was traveling more with Roman as there was nothing on her schedule until the next year. Just as she was about to reach into her purse for her keys, her peep-toe pumps made contact with an object, making her wince briefly.
Looking down, she found a package sitting in front of her door. Her brows furrowed... It was Saturday, did UPS or FedEx even deliver on Saturdays? Bending to pick up the package, it didn't even cross her mind that this was the package she had been longing for.
Upon closer inspection of the package, there was no return address; just one word where it should have been, Sir. Her pulse quickened as goosebumps prickled her skin. That one word – only three letters – carried so much weight behind it. Her stomach dropped and tumbled all at the same time, a shiver – of anticipation and fear curling at her spine – part of her was almost afraid to even open the package, despite her longing for what was sure to be inside, but she knew Sir would not appreciate that as an excuse.
Though... A little thrill rushed through her, if she didn't open it, surely she would be punished but... No, a voice in her head reminded her; You made a promise to Sir, that you would be a good Kitten. Only good Kittens get their rewards. You don't want Sir to be disappointed that you were bad while he was away.
Finding a knife, she opened the package, carefully. Inside was a note and something wrapped in tissue paper. The outside of the note – in perfect penmanship – said read me first. With nervous anticipation, she unfolded the note.
i went to a small fetish shop in paris; i saw this in the window, and i knew this was the one. i want you to put it on now, i know how long you've been waiting, how badly you want it, and then i want you to take a picture of yourself wearing it. you'll be so beautiful, more than i imagined, i bet. read these next words carefully, do not take it off, except for when you shower and sleep. i want you to wear it until you see me again. i will know if you've taken it off, so don't. you'll be punished – severely – if you do.
Sir
Leilani swallowed hard. The whole time she had read the note, she heard Roman's voice in her head. That rich baritone, so deep in its bow, every word sliding over her skin like decadent chocolate. He didn't say what he wanted her to wear, but she had a feeling she knew and she could feel her body start to react. Pulling away the tissue paper, a black leather collar with a silver circular charm dangling at the front; the word kitten was scrawled in cursive. It was classy and subtle enough... Chokers were very in at this point, any stylist she worked with would be able to build a look around the item, not having a clue or even paying attention to the word on the charm. Her hair would hide the buckle at the back, but just having the collar around her neck made her believe she would be perpetually wet while wearing it.
Feeling the buttery touch of the leather and inspecting the charm, this had to have cost Roman a signficant amount of money. But the thought of him walking into a fetish shop in Paris... Her nipples come alive against the cotton of her sundress, the image so perfect in her head, as she undoes the buckle and slips the collar around her neck. He didn't necessarily dress badly before meeting her – with his incredible physique it was hard for clothes too look bad as everything was fitted and tight across the imense muscle his frame posessed – but in the months they had been together, his style had improved.
The black high-collared John Varvatos jacket was pulled tight over his broad shoulders as he stepped into the shop, she was sure. While his dark washed jeans were tailored perfectly for the power in his thighs. The grey v-neck was soft and clinging to the expanse of his thickly muscled pectorals, revealing the shape of their perfectly symetrical square lines. Aviators hid his expressive chocolate eyes while the growth of a few days beard only enhanced his attractiveness.
The images her mind was supplying only served to make heat surge at her very core.
Her thighs clenched and unclenched underneath her, the lips of her pussy dripping as she reached behind her to undo the zipper of her dress. Letting the cotton fall away, she left it behind as she made her way toward her bedroom. The bobby pins that held her messy bun in place were forgotten in the master bathroom. Her hair tumbled along her almond shoulders in soft waves. Her lips shimmered with a fresh coat of gloss.
For Sir she had to look her best.
The collar, somehow, felt both weightless and heavy. But as she looked at herself in her floor length mirror, she was taken aback by how good it looked. Then she imagined what Sir would think... How much he would like how she looked, how it looked on her. Her thighs rubbed together, desperate for friction, as her mind spiraled imaginging the things Sir would do to her once he was home.
Reaching for her phone, she took a deep breath before snapping the picture. With shaking fingers, she sent the text.
Ten minutes passed before her phone chimed, and she swore they were the longest ten minutes of her life.
I knew you would look more beautiful than I imagined. I'd text you a picture of my own, but the roster is out having drinks, celebrating that we have tomorrow off to sight see. Don't worry about the cost, I know once you saw it, that would cross your mind. Nothing's too expensive for you, Kitten.
A bolt of pure arousal rushes through her body and a needy moan escapes her lips.
Miss you, need you is all she can text back. Even in black and white, the word kitten, sends her mind spiraling into a haze of lust. Why does he have to be so far away? Can't he come home now? She stomps her foot and a childish whine is brought forth from her throat. She knows it's not possible but... Before she can send another hasty text, begging him to come home, her phone chimes again.
Patience is a virtue. I've been on longer tours. Am I going to come home to a bad Kitten? Or to the good Kitten you promised me you would be?
Leilani feels her chest tighten like a vice. She squeezes her thighs together as hard as she can while only growing wetter. She stomps both feet, letting out a heavy breath. How can he be so flippant? Patience is a virtue? I've been on longer tours? Doesn't he know how badly she needs him? How hard it has been to be without him? Doesn't he need her as badly? Hasn't it been as hard for him to be without her?
Don't you need me like I need you, Sir? Isn't it so hard to be without me? It's so hard for me to be without you she texts before she can think twice.
This chime is faster than the two previous chimes.
Sir always needs his Kitten. But you promised I was coming home to a good Kitten. Do you know what happens to bad Kittens who break their promises?
No, Leilani thinks, growing more aroused by the minute. But I want to know.
What happens to bad Kittens who break their promises, Sir?
They'll be disciplined severely. Is that what you need, Kitten? To be disciplined?
Yes, Sir I'm a naughty Kitten who needs to be taught a lesson.
Remember you said you were a naughty Kitten who needed to be taught a lesson. When I come home, no matter how much it hurts, how badly you need to cum, how much you want my mouth on your tits, my mouth on your pussy and my dick inside your pussy, you asked to be punished. Are we clear, Kitten?
Yes, Sir.
How she was standing, she didn't know. Her phone slipped from her hand, dropping to the floor with a hollow thud, which didn't register. All she knew was the sound of Roman's voice in her ear; saying those words he had texted, no matter how much it hurts, how badly you need to cum, how much you want my mouth on your tits, my mouth on your pussy and my dick inside your pussy, you asked to be punished.
Now, the real waiting game began.
i want your body, need your body/long as you got me, won't need nobody
~.~
whatever you like
anya marina
Today was the day. Roman was coming home. So many emotions were rushing through Leilani – excitement, nervousness, frustration, happiness – she thought she might burst. Her closet was strewn all over her bedroom. Including some of the items he left behind... They weren't living together. The loft was hers and he had his home in Pensacola. Biting down on her lip, as she brought his newest t-shirt, Ashes To Empire, to her nose she wondered if she could convince him to move in. If that's something he would even want.
Her heart fluttered at the thought... Her home turning into their home. No suitcases against the wall. A trail of clothes because some nights he was so tired after a long tour or a paper-view. He would just slip into bed, pulling her close into his wonderfully thick frame, a kiss against her hair.
His scent wouldn't disappear from his preferred side of the bed.
Or... She could sell the loft and move to Pensacola. She would have more than just half of his closet and a few drawers. She would be able to reach for a dress and brush against the softness of a zip up sweater. As they were leaving to go to dinner she could, slip off her panties and put them in the pocket of his suit jacket as a surprise. Arousal flooded her body at the thought and she felt her pussy lips quiver as a soft sigh escaped her lips.
Biting down on her lip, Leilani reached for her phone and texted him, asking if he wanted her to pick him up at the airport.
He said no.
Her heart sunk while her brows furrowed. It was silly but she was hoping he'd want her to pick him up so she could leap into his arms and just let her face fall into the crook of his neck, nose bussing along its thick tendon and breathing in his delectable scent. Huffing in annoyance, she texted him if he would want her to be waiting for him outside.
He said yes to her waiting for him outside and instructions followed; dress up for me, kitten; wear the black pleated dress you wore when you came to dinner with my parents at summerslam, the same heels you wore and do your makeup, too. and remember you better be wearing your collar or there will be severe consequences, more severe than the discipline you were begging for.
Gulp.
The dress Roman requested was a dress she had worn at least three times prior to meeting his parents about two months ago. She hoped she hadn't sent it to be dry cleaned. Her brain was under such a fog, lust seeping into her every poor, she couldn't have remembered if she had worn it recenlty even if someone put a gun to her head. Her fingers shook as she raked through her closet, her heart pounding vigorously inside her chest. The last thing she wanted was to disappoint him by not wearing the dress.
A bold sigh of relief escaped when she felt the familiar polyester against her fingertips.
Just as she smacked her lips together after applying a soft pink gloss, her phone chimed.
i'm outside, waiting. you have two minutes to be down here or i'm coming up there.
Without giving the elevator a second thought, Leilani took the stairs two at a time. When she reached the revolving door of the building, she took a deep breath and ran her fingers along the length of her dress before pushing through. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in his familiar silhouette; broad shoulders, impressive chest, wonderfully muscled arms, thick waist, classic jawline, lush lips... Her heart felt like it would beat out of her chest as his lips curled into a warm smile, that was gone as quickly as it appeared. His eyes were hidden behind his aviators and oh how she wanted to see them; they were a beautiful shade of chocolate brown, so deep and inviting, she fell further from just looking at them.
Biting down on her lip, she closed the space between them and murmured, "Take off your sunglasses."
It was a risky move; he was the one who gave the orders, not that she was ordering him, per say but she didn't use the qualifier of please, she just said take them off. Her skin prickled as his upper lip rose, taking the shape of a smirk, but at least his lips weren't set in a frown. That had to be a good sign.
Easily he lifted them away from his face, and her breath caught in her throat. It was impossible but every time he was away, he seemed to be better looking than she remembered. She couldn't help but melt against his hulking frame, arms winding around his neck, face falling into the crook of his neck and breathing him in. She missed him so much she thought she would start to cry. Being away from him was so hard. Just having his scent surrounding her made her pussy quiver and her thighs clench and unclench underneath her.
"What a good Kitten you are." Heady and deep against the shell of her ear, making her shudder.
"I need you, Sir," Pitiful and desperate, pulling back to stare into those chocolate eyes she loved so much. "Soooooooo muuuuuuch," Each syllable elongated and begging.
"I know you do," Gently stroking her cheek. "Sir knows exactly what his Kitten needs."
the mood is set/so you already know what's next
~.~
skin
rihanna
This dress... It was a wonder Roman hadn't ripped it off right there in front of her building, doorman be damned. He would never forget this dress as long as he lived. It was perfect; classy, sophisticated, just like Leilani was. The black fabric was a wonderful contrast to the smooth almond of her skin. The neckline hinted at what was underneath; soft curves while the pleats lifted with her every step giving him a glimpse at the stretch of her toned thighs.
His dick immediately came to life from the leather around her neck. The charm jingled and to the rest of the world she was wearing a fashionable choker. Only they knew it's real meaning.
A heavy sigh left his lips. As much as she needed him, as much as she was begging and desperate, so was he. Those beautiful lips, her delicate fingers; his own hand was no match for them. When she pleaded he teach her a lesson, had he not been at a large table with half the roster surrounding him, he would have cum right then and there.
He had been apprehensive about the BDSM, afraid with the strength he posessed that he would hurt her, and he wouldn't have been able to live with himself if he had. But the way those chestunut eyes – so big and trusting – stared back at him, teeth nibbling on her bottom lip, her heart and soul bared to him, he gave in to her honesty. How could he not when she was looking at him like he owned her? And he couldn't deny the trill of power that rushed through his body. He wanted this as much as she did, maybe even more.
Part of him, as they walked over the threshold of her loft, just wanted to hold her; breathe her in, let his eyes take in every feature, every curve but there was his dick throbbing in his pants, needing to give her what she needed. After, he could hold her and take in her beauty.
A heady gasp escaped her lips when he pulled her, tight, against him. Biting down on the shell of her ear, he told her, "Stay still, I'm going to cover your eyes. Don't breathe, don't move and don't you dare cum without my explicit permission. And remember, Kitten, you asked Sir for this; to be punished, to be taught a lesson because you're a naughty Kitten. If one plea leaves your lips, I'll leave you here; eyes covered and bound to your bed. Don't test me."
The feeling of her soft frame shuddering against him, made Roman smirk. "So needy," He taunted, one hand slipping away from her wrist to slide along her neck, toying with the charm at the front of her collar. "I bet if I slid my hand over your breasts, your nipples would be as hard as diamonds and I know if my hand went between your legs, you would be dripping. Tell me I'm right."
He waited a beat to see if she would respond. He didn't give her permission to speak and when she looked at him in question, he gave her a soft kiss on her lips, pulling away before she could draw him in.
"Speak."
"You're right..." Breathless and before another syllable could fall from her lips, he pushed her in the direction of the bedroom, her body stumbling slightly before she righted herself and continued walking down the hallway.
don't hold back/you know i like it rough/know i'm feelin' ya, huh/know you liking it, huh
~.~
skin
rihanna
He knows – as he slides the silk between her legs, then up and over her hips and finally to its ultimate destination, her eyes – he's supposed to be domineering and cold, but he still doesn't want to hurt her. He lets his facade slip, asking, "Too tight?"
"No..." Wanton as her back arches, her hips rising and he's able to see just how aroused she is. He swallows thickly; the familiar scent of her wetness calling to him, making something primal ignite deep inside.
He asks her the same question about the scarves around her wrists and her ankles, and she responds the same way. It eases his mind, knowing she would be able to loosen the restraints if this all became too much. He's done his research and subspace can take over easily. Staying too long in subspace can also have lasting consequences. He doesn't want that for her; to feel like she's hurting or this has gone too far and she can't come back.
He'd rather be locked in a hundred Acolades and Kumura locks than damage her.
As easily as he let his facade slip, he goes back in.
Two quick slaps to her weeping pussy and she bites down on her lip, her neck straining as she fights the urge to cry out.
"So beautiful, spread out like this... Tied up, with nowhere to go, all for me." He groans, bending forward to bite the inside of her thigh, purposefully avoiding where he knows she needs him most. "You said you needed to be taught a lesson. You should feel privileged Sir is so willing to teach you a lesson."
He has to be careful of marks as his lips trail up the smoothness of her flat stomach to her breasts. Though, part of him wants to leave them. He wants whatever man she's filming with to know he has no chance, that he can't charm her while she's undressing him for the cameras while her lips are sealed with his and her hands are touching him. He growls at the thought, red clouding his vision, and he bites hard as his lips close around her nipple.
Her back arches, her mouth falling open in a silent cry of lust.
"This is all for me. No one else gets to see you like this; tied up, scarf covering your eyes, pussy wet and gleaming, nipples hard and red from my mouth. The beard burn on your skin. Fuck," He groans, bending to nuzzle against the swan-like curve of her neck. "You're so beautiful, Kitten. More than you have any right to be. Tell me this is all for me."
"It's... All..." Stumbling and breathless and that just won't do. Biting at her nipple again, he reaches between them and gives four harsh slaps to her pussy. "Tell. Me. This. Is. All. For. Me." His voice is more aggressive this time. This is an order.
"This is all for you," Wanton and heavy. "Good Kitten." Warm and heady as he laves his tongue over her sensitive bud, making her sink into the mattress, her body relaxing.
The relaxing was only brief. He had teased her by bringing his dick in front of her face, letting her taste only a drop of the precum weeping from the head and then he had teased her more cruelly by rubbing the head against her entrance but never entering her.
If she bit her lip any harder, there would be a hole. He knew it was getting increasingly difficult for her to stay silent. He bent forward, gripping her chin tight, and and asked her as his other hand wrapped her glossy strands around his knucles while tugging, so her head snapped forward, "Have you learned your lesson, Kitten? Or does Sir need to punish you some more? Maybe it would be best for you if Sir left you like this, aching and desperate, without his permission to cum. Do you think that's what you need Kitten?"
She didn't say anything; only a single tear slipped from beneath the blind fold, sliding down the beautifully sculpted slope of her cheek.
"Answer me," Another sharp tug of her hair and she couldn't hold back a pathetic whimper as another tear fell.
"If..." Her lips were trembling and he tugged again, another whimper escaping. "If Sir thinks that's what I need I will accept any punishment he sees fit like a good Kitten."
"Fucking say it again."
"If Sir thinks that's what I need I will accept any punishment he sees fit like a good Kitten."
"What a good Kitten you are," He husked against the curve of her breast, his hand loosening its grip on her hair and sliding down to cup her pussy. "Now, beg."
"Please... oh, Sir... Please, please... I need... God... Sir... Please, let me..." She was begging so beautifully and he couldn't say no to those pleas. He'd never be able to say no to her. Just one rub from his fingers and her orgasm rushed through her, instantly. She lost whatever breath she had been holding all this time as she came hard against him, body shuddering, each tight convulsion against his dick pulling him closer to his own release.
"Take it all, take every inch of this dick like the slut you are," He demanded with a sharp snap of his hips, sliding his dick inside her all too willing pussy.
"Thank you, Sir." The words were nothing more than a heavy pant.
Once he knew the last of the aftershocks had pulsed out of him, he bent forward, leaving a warm, soft kiss against her shoulder. He pulled out slowly as groans of satisfaction and fatigue left both of them.
i know you, i walked with you once upon a dream/i know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam
~.~
once upon a dream
lana del rey
Leilani watched through heavy lidded eyes as Roman took his time to clean up, his touches gentle and reverential. He wasn't quite in focus and her head was still spinning, every moment so clear and crisp in her mind. Her joints ached but pleasantly, if that made any sense. Her eyes closed; the moments playing out from behind her lids and she moaned, her hips rolling upward, seeking his touch. Her pussy twitched and she sighed softly as she felt the bed dip beneath her.
Easily he folded her into his arms. She felt a tear escape as her head fell into the crook of his neck.
He felt the moisture against his skin because he didn't let her face stay buried for much longer.
"What's your color?" Concern etched into his handsome features. She felt like swooning. How could someone so powerful be so warm and gentle?
"Green," Confident to her own ears but his brows furrowed together. "You sure, Lei?"
"Yeah," She answered, snuggling deeper into his arms while her fingers reached up, sinking into the thick strands of his hair. He had been rough, rougher than he had ever been before tonight, but she asked for it. She wanted it, needed it. "If I wasn't, I would tell you." A soft kiss to his lips. "Thank you," Whispered honestly as she peered from behind her long lashes, chestnut eyes radiating love.
There was that breath-taking smile. If she didn't know he had been an All-American defensive end in college, she would've sworn he modeled before becoming a wrestler. Her heart soared in her chest and she giggled from the feeling of his beard scraping against her cheek before he placed a kiss against her forehead.
"That's what you needed, right, baby?" A giant teddy bear, honestly. And the thought made her giggle again. "Yeah..."
"As long as that's what you needed tonight, and you're green, I got nothin' to worry about. Do you need anything for now? Are you hungry? Cold?"
"I just need you; your arms around me, to hear your heartbeat."
"I'm right here Leilani, I got you." He reached down bringing her hand to his mouth, gentle kisses pressed to each knuckle. "Always."
but if i know you, i know what you'll do/you'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream
~.~
once upon a dream
lana del rey
Roman kept Leilani wrapped in his arms, rubbing her back gently, until he felt her breathing even out and her body stop shuddering. Sleep is what she needed right now, but he wanted to make sure she had everything she needed once she woke up. He slipped away from her, leaving her with a kiss against her bare shoulder and padded across the hardwood floor to her vintage bureau, reaching in to pull out her favorite pajamas; they were thermal leggins and a matching top in a green and black plaid pattern. He laid them out at the foot of the bed before going back to the drawer and pulling out a pair of the sweats he left here.
As he slipped the comfortable fabric up his legs, he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if he moved in. New York was easier to fly in and out of than Pensacola, as he had to drive down to Tampa because they had an airport. Seeing each other would be so much easier if they didn't have to choose whose home they would be going to this time.
He could come home and there she would be, waiting; curled up on the couch with Pashmina and a book, mug of hot chocolate on the coffee table. Maybe in a tub full of bubbles only her messy bun peeking through. Or splayed out on the bed, naked and touching herself.
Fuck, he cursed inwardly.
He shook his head; that would have to wait, right now he needed to take care of her, to make sure she had what she needed when she woke up.
Padding down the familiar hallway, he couldn't help but imagine – as he reached into the cupboard for the Peppermint hot chocolate she liked so much (seriously, ro it has to be peppermint or i won't drink it. you're adorable. adorably serious about my hot chocolate.), him teaching her how to make his mother's gravy for holidays. She'd be wearing a beautiful red dress, heels – because you're a giant while her lips were downturned in an adorable pout – her hair done up in an elaborate style, leaving her neck bare for him to suck and nibble while she melted against him.
His cousins kids would sound like a herd of buffalo on the hardwood floors.
His latest niece or nephew – as his sister Vanessa was pregnant with her third at the moment – in her arms. Her beautiful face aglow from the lights on the tree. His father nudging him, his mother practically begging to know about the ring he has stashed away. His brother Matt telling him to lock her up, Summer reminding him how well she fits around all of them and their loud half-Italian, half-Samoan craziness. Vanessa teasing about how she's going to have the next baby.
Her cheeks would flush and she'd peer, shyly, from behind those beautiful lashes.
"You were gone when I woke up," A sleepy murmur in his ear as arms wind around his waist, drawing him from the fictious memories. "Had to make sure you were taken care of," He answers twisting around, so they're face to face.
"You're so good to me, Roman. What did I..." He cuts her off, bending to seal their lips together.
Their tongues tangle softly and warmly before he pulls apart, pushing several strands behind her ear.
"I got Sleeping Beauty in the Blu-Ray," He tells her before bending to give her lips another kiss. "Lemme make your hot chocolate and we'll talk about how I wanna move in, okay?"
Her eyes light up. The chestnut irises suddenly a bright honey gold. "Seriously?" A happy squeal as she bounces on her toes. So fucking adorable. So. Fucking. Adorable. Her hands clasped together and beautiful pink lips stretched into a blinding smile.
"I've never been more serious about anything in my life, Leilani."
soundtrack: "crazy in love" beyonce, "stripped" shiny toy guns, "whatever you like" anya marina "skin" rihanna and "once upon a dream" as sung by lana del rey from disney's malificent