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Prone between his thighs, you peered up at Chris through half-lidded eyes, your lashes casting shadows over your irises. Chris had one hand resting against the top of your head, and his other arm was hooked against the headboard. Pillows surrounded him. He looked every bit the king you intended to treat him as.
“You look so good, sweetheart,” he rumbled. His fingers flexed against your skull, urging you closer. Your nose pressed against the underside of his cock, drinking in the smell of sweat and his cologne: cinnamon, notes of vanilla.
“You don’t have to talk,” you promised him. You knew he liked praising you, knew how wet it got your cunt, but this was supposed to be about him. He’d been away for so long. You’d started to wonder if he was ever coming home at all.
“Can’t help it.” Chris pushed his hips forward. His cock glided across your lips, the tip pushing into your cheek. Pre-come left a clear trail along your skin, sticky, thin, and it sent your pulse fluttering. Head dipping lower, your tongue lapped along his balls, up the little seam between them, skipping through the dark hair and finally you closed your lips over his cock.
Fat, heavy, his cock weighed on your tongue. You whined at the heady taste. Chris groaned, and the noise, combined with his heat, made your eyes water with relief. A sigh huffed out, nostrils flaring. Your bottom lip trembled. He was real, he was here, and he was yours.
You pushed the flat of your tongue against his head, squishing into the spongy flesh. Hand curling slowly around his shaft, you slipped him deeper. Once he was as far as you could stand without gagging, you exhaled through your nose. Your eyes slipped shut. That relief spread outwards, tingling in the tips of your fingers, and you just reveled in feeling him.
Chris was quiet. He let you take the time you needed, kept himself still; you just soaked him in. And then you started to bob your head. Wet, slurping sounds as you sucked Chris’ cock as eagerly as you could. Fingers raced up his thighs, skipping over his hips until you found what you wanted. You kneaded into his belly. The soft skin, pillowy, warm, made your heart flutter.
Heat raced along your spine. Your cunt was soaked, exposed to the air, and you shivered when the cold blast from the air condition hit your wet folds. Goosebumps pricked along your skin. Chris watched your body shake, and his hand brushed the side of your face. Need sparked in Chris’ dark brown eyes, flickering to life and making him brighten.
“Come here.”
Chris lifted you away from his cock; he guided you onto your stomach, pressing you down into the mattress. Chris gripped your wrists, fixed them up on the pillows, no argument to be made. You squirmed, face rubbing into the sheets, and you hummed when you felt Chris slide his cock between your folds. He lubed himself on your arousal, letting your slick gush across his head. One hand reached down to smear it across his length before returning to your arms, keeping you pinned down. “Oh, sweetheart,” was the only warning you got before he moved.
Chris sank his cock into your cunt; he pushed his face into your neck, breathing in deep, like he could smell the arousal sparking along your veins: a live wire. Chris growled low in your ear, and you felt him bottom out. Your pussy took him to the hilt, stretched out, still flexing around him as you adjusted.
Chris’ weight was immensely comforting; he let himself rest on you, belly fitted against the curve of your spine. His teeth nipped at your ear, and you felt the air slowly be forced from your lungs as he allowed himself to pin you with his entire body. Your heart felt like it was in the back of your mouth, beating wildly against your throat. It made your eyes roll back when Chris rutted his hips, jerking you against the mattress.
“Chris–” He thrust into you again, cutting you off by ripping a moan from the bottom of your lungs. “God, please, daddy.”
It slipped out, unintentional. A thought you’d had before but had never dared speak. But here it was now, a bell you couldn’t unring, and your heart pounded when Chris went still. “What did you say?”
“Nothing–fuck, sorry, I just–”
“Angel,” Chris cooed. He crowded your ear, voice low, and you wanted to melt into the mattress as he spoke, “Don’t get shy in front of daddy now.” Chris licked a stripe up your neck, slamming his hips into yours. Skin slapped skin, and you yelped at just how deep his cock plunged into you. Your wrists were still pinned, but you curled your fingers, looking for any sort of grip.
"Ah, Chris–”
“Ah, ah.” It tutted out from his tongue, and you felt embarrassment burn up to your cheeks, threatening to blister you in the wake of the immense heat. Chris took each of your arms in a hand, dragging them down until they were jammed into the mattress beside your head. “You know what you need to fucking say, don’t you?”
“Daddy, please.”
“That’s right. Good.” Chris started up the movement of his hips again, no less rough than before. His cock stuffed you full, and each pass backward brought you eye-watering friction. Your walls clamped down, demanding in its need for more, more, more. Chris sped up his thrusts. He knew your body better than you did at this point, and the smallest little ripple of your walls could pull him to action.
“Too much, oh god, daddy,” you moaned, shoving your face into the mattress. It hid your blush, but Chris wasn’t having it. He released one of your wrists and fisted his hand in the back of your hair. He snatched you back, up, until his mouth was right beside your ear again.
“Take your daddy’s cock, angel. That’s a fucking order,” he snarled.
Chris sank his teeth into the dip between shoulder and neck. His tongue darted out to race across the indents his teeth left, and you moaned loudly. Chris stilled his hips, and, burning up, unable to stand not seeing you, drew back entirely. You whimpered at the loss, but you were quickly turned over, bouncing gently against the bed from the force Chris exerted, and you took a moment to just admire each other.
The light caught Chris’ grays, making them shimmer in the light. At the right angle, it could turn him nearly completely silver. Your gaze raked shamelessly over his body. The dark hair on his chest, down to his soft belly. Hands reaching up, you gripped at him, squeezing the pliable flesh on his stomach. Your nails left scratches in your wake, and Chris hissed, leaning over you again.
“Come here.”
Chris dug his fingers into your hips; he dragged you down until your hips, raised off the bed, were aligned with his. His cock moved in slow strokes against your clit. It jumped, neglected, obviously excited at the attention it was finally getting. “Look at you,” Chris murmured. “So good for daddy.” He gripped his cock; he rubbed it more firmly against you. You squirmed, pleasure surging, and you keened.
“Daddy–”
“Gonna come like this, baby?” Chris asked, soft. His voice was too sweet for the filth that spewed from his mouth next: “Come for daddy. Show me how bad you need this cock in you.”
You nodded, feverish nearly, and your chest felt like it was cracking open. The full length of Chris’ dick passed over your clit, back and forth. Pre-come spread over your clit and lips. You bucked up, needing him to fill you again, but you knew he wouldn’t until he got what he wanted.
It took a few more slips of his cock against you, but you gave it to him. Your body seized, folding forward; your hands flew to grab his biceps. Chris dipped down and nuzzled his nose against the top of your head, soft purrs of that’s right, angel, that’s my baby. Your clit bowed into his cock, pulsing as you came, and your cunt spilled slick all over the sheets.
“Proud of you, sweetheart,” Chris murmured. He didn’t let you breathe. He dropped his cock down to your fluttering hole and pushed himself inside. “Perfect.” A soft groan. Silk walls enveloped him, and you gasped when he started to rut against you. “Oh, god.”
“Daddy, fuck, fill me, please. I need you. Come inside me.” You ran at the mouth, needy, desperate. Chris slid his hands over to your thighs, gripping the backs of them, and he pushed your legs further apart. His palms cupped the bends of your knees.
“Gonna give you exactly what you want, baby,” Chris dropped his head to your neck, pressed the bridge of his nose into your jaw so hard it hurt. His voice was low, nothing more than a rasped out growl as he spoke. “Your pussy feels so fucking good. So tight. Made for daddy’s cock.”
Your brain short-circuited. Drunk on his cock, you could only mewl softly beneath him. Chris folded your hips forward. Each thrust deep into the velvet of your cunt made you both breathless. You swore you could see your belly bumping outward with each hit to your cervix. It made you drool, spit trailing past your lips.
“Can’t talk, angel?” Chris murmured. His demeanor softened a bit, and you saw his dark eyes roam your face. “You okay?” You nodded, but Chris tipped forward. Belly pressing into yours, his lips brushed the corner of your mouth, gentle, loving. “Promise daddy. And I need your words.”
It took a minute. Chris waited. Finally, you nodded again, and your voice was broken as you breathed out, “I promise.”
Chris smiled. The lines around his eyes deepened, and his nose crinkled slightly. He kissed the air out of your chest; you felt it cave in, and just as you were about to collapse, Chris bucked his hips. Your cunt sucked him in with a wet squelch.
“That’s it. Give me that pretty pussy.”
You clawed at the sheets while riding his brutal pace. He chased his orgasm with intensity. It burned in his face, spiked your arousal higher. In these moments, you remembered who he was: a man in need. A man, unsure of when the next time he’d be without, wanting nothing more than to indulge so wholly he would want for nothing else in the world. His pelvis ground into your clit with each stuttering thrust, and you were surprised when you came again.
“I love you–fuck, Chris–”
“Come for daddy–god, sweetheart, you’re so beautiful. Fuck, just like that, baby, just–”
Chris’ words were flooded by a moan as he emptied himself into your cunt. His cock twitched and bowed, pressing into your walls, and come splattered across your insides. You were a mess; it leaked from you, and Chris kept fucking through your shared ecstasy.
Silence overtook you. Overwhelmed, hot from your release, you trembled in Chris’ hold. He pulled his cock free from your cunt with a wet pop, and you watched as he settled in beside you.
“You’re still okay?”
“Mhm.” You reached toward him and crooked your pinky finger. Chris grinned, lifting his and tangling them together in a promise. You smiled; you leaned forward and kissed him.
“So daddy, huh?”
“God, please don’t fucking mention it–” you groaned covering your face.
“I liked it,” Chris assured, crawling over top of you. He moved your palms away, looking down into your eyes as he straddled your hips. The light haloing him turned his gray hairs white. They were dotted across his facial hair, on the sides of his head. Your pulse beat quicker. “What?”
“Can I come for you again, daddy?”
Chris leaned down. His hands pinned you to the bed again.
“You sure can.”