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builtbybrokenbells · 5 months

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CAPITAL VICES | LUST

Lust: a strong passion or longing, especially for sexual desires.

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 15.5k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it), fingering (f!recieving) oral (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), face-fucking, dom/sub, bratty sub, dirty talk, name calling, hint of degradation, praise, sir kink, choking, impact play, touch of cum play, hookups/fwb, drinking, mentions of drugs/drug use/addiction, swearing, a painful amount of flirting (player Jake is my weakness btw), sorry if I miss any!

here we go again. i know i said i might not be posting much but i finished this up and I couldn’t help myself. my apartment is about half packed so this was a little reward for myself lol 🥰 im thrilled about this series, and I really hope you guys are too. as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!

The room was packed with bodies desperate for a thrill, but most were in active search with little knowledge of how they would attain it. Some were drowning their sorrows in tequila shots while others danced away their memories, clinging on to a companion who would only temporarily solve their troubles for the night. You couldn’t blame them for giving it their best shot; even you knew that pain was more digestible when there was someone to accompany you through it. In the morning when they woke, it would return with a fervent appetite. It would snowball, feeding viciously off the shame brewing from a one night stand that could not even give them an orgasm. For the time being, they seemed content with their watered down drinks and 80’s hits playing through the system with a stranger wrapped around them. They tried not to think of the future, but it was still weighing heavily in the back of their minds. You knew they would regret it, and so did they, but they were unwilling to own the truth.

Others found their thrills in more nefarious ways, like the couple who was engaging in all but penetrative sex in the booth in the back corner. They thought the crowd would cover their show of desperation for each other, conceal them from curious eyes, but they were stealing spotlight even in the near pitch black room. Some were doing lines in the bathroom, hoping that life would get a little more interesting with the next hit all while promising themselves sobriety when the night came to an end. Despite their beliefs that they would stop their ‘recreational’ doses when the sun rose in the sky, everyone (including themselves) knew the reality of the situation; they were decomposing at the hands of substance abuse. They weren’t willing to admit to their own addiction, but most would succumb to the sickness and end up washed up in rehab after their spouses or parents reached the point of no return.

Violence even seemed to spark interest in a young pair of boys just outside, throwing fists in hopes of asserting dominance, yet only making fools of themselves in front of their dates. It was an embarrassing show of missed punches and drunken rage, but somehow it tickled them just right. They would go home pleased with themselves, proud that they ‘stood their ground’ (what they were defending, you weren’t certain of) and their dates would complain to their friends about it. After a week of missed calls and messages, the young boys would begin to understand that their temper tantrums were not good foreplay and would vow to learn their lesson. Until the next night of drinking draft and watching football on a bar television, of course.

No matter which way, every person in the bar was in search of something more, something to give them a spark of life back and a memory to tell later on down the line. None of them could admit that their entertainment for the night would do neither of those things. Instead, they would have a nasty hangover and a looming sense of dread hanging over them for the foreseeable future. That’s the thing about materialistic thinking; it always leaves you unfulfilled and in search of more. The people that came to the bar miserable would ultimately leave the same way, yet they would never admit that their ways were no longer working for them. Maybe in their teens or early twenties real memories could be made over cheap tequila and hookups, and if not memories, lessons for certain. After twenty five, it just seemed a little sad to continue down the same path of destruction in hopes for anything meaningful.

You were not at the bar for a thrill. You were there for one reason; to pass the time, and to get a good buzz. Dancing was never your forte, nor was it your passion to do drugs off the back of a dirty bar toilet. Company was low on your list of priorities and always had been. You learned many years ago that you would never find a suitable life partner at a dive bar just off of Main Street in a big city. Establishments like such only ever seemed to attract college attendees and middle aged men who hated spending time with their wives. Even when a promising suspect would turn up, eventually they would show the side of them that made it impossible to keep a girlfriend. Getting to know people was a drag, and the thought of making room in your apartment for a second person was more sickening than anything else. You liked your personal space, and you liked peace. When adding a new person to your life, you were risking it all, and risk something that never peaked your interest.

Whiskey was something that caught your attention though, and when it was cheap, it only made you more inclined to indulge. You had learned long ago that this particular dive bar had the cheapest stock around, and they didn’t skip out on quality, either. They seemed to save their money by neglecting building maintenance, but that didn’t bother you in the slightest. You could get drunk in a five star hotel for triple the price, and you’d still be drunk. You tried not to think about the soles of your shoes sticking to the dirty floor or the outdated interior design, and the drink in your hand aided the process sufficiently.

“Another?” The bartender asked as he nodded towards your empty glass.

“You know me too well, Ray.” You chuckled, sliding him the empty glass. He grabbed it, barely leaving your side before another was sat in front of you.

“What can I say? You’re my favourite regular.” He smiled. Both of you knew this was the truth; you appeared every weekend, sitting in the same spot and drinking the same thing, and you never made a peep aside from the small talk initiated by the workers. You were a certain tip, and if he had the luxury of being blunt, the prettiest face to look at in the crowd.

“You’re just saying that because I tip well.” You grinned, sipping away at the beverage he’d made for you.

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“No,” you shook your head “just pointing out the obvious.” He chuckled, throwing a towel over his shoulder before moving on to the next customer. You knew when the night dwindled down, he’d be back over to chat with you. Some would have shame in admitting that their closest friend was a 60 year old bartender, especially as a young woman, but you didn’t care. With him, you were never required to entertain any meaningful conversation or profess your darkest secrets. It was simple, lighthearted, and it served you well. You had no obligation to continue the friendship outside of the bar, and you got to see pictures of his grandkids. It was a win-win for everyone.

You barely looked up from your phone when the seat beside you was taken by another. You thought it odd for him to feel inclined toward that specific seat considering the bar was full of vacant space, but you didn’t think too hard about it. Drunk people didn’t care much about social cues, and you didn’t care enough to argue with them. What you did care for was the overwhelmingly strong scent of the patrons cologne, which seemed to be choking you the longer you breathed it in. It was not unpleasant; far from it, really, but it was very apparent. You weren’t sure if he doused himself in it before making an appearance at the bar, or if it was just so strong because of his close proximity. You buried yourself in your drink instead of investigating any further, knowing that someone who smelled so heavenly would only be looking for trouble.

“Any recommendations?” The voice struck you like a bolt of lightning, strong and without any warning. At first, you had doubts that the words were pointed in your direction, but when you felt a pair of eyes staring holes into your skull, you knew you were mistaken. You looked over at him, curious about the nature of his question. Surely any man who stepped foot into a bar already had an idea of what he wanted to drink. You doubted that the conversation starter was about alcohol, and was most likely a way to initiate a round of unbearable flirting.

“Depends.” You breathed, finding yourself completely distracted by the beauty of his face. His long brown hair was framing his face, and his smile was breathtaking. “What kind of night are you trying to have?”

“I’m open to suggestions.” He said, eyes lingering over the features of your face. He seemed just as enthralled in you as you were with him, and neither of you seemed keen on hiding it.

“Well, if you’re looking to dance, try the house tequila.” You started, flickering your eyes towards the wall of liquor bottles. “Seems like the draft here makes a person want to get in a fight, and the gin will leave you crying in the bathroom. Speaking of the bathroom, if you’re looking for some non-liquid solutions to your problems, there’s plenty in there, but I don’t know how much they’re willing to share.” He let out a laugh at your joke, but you were unsure if it was due to his shared sense of humour or because he wanted to get in your pants. Either way, it was a nice stroke to the ego. Even if it was due to a desire for sex, it was nice to feel appreciated, especially by someone so captivating.

“A lady that knows her liquor,” he noted, giving a slow nod. “I can appreciate that.”

“You asked, I answered.” You shrugged, a small smile tugging at your lips. “So what is it, then? Dancing, fighting, or crying?”

“None of them.” He assured you. “What if I’m looking to impress someone? Any suggestions for that?” You pretended to ponder the question before giving him an answer.

“I guess that would depend on who you’re trying to impress?” You raised an eyebrow, appearing more inquisitive than you truly were. He was handsome, and that was no secret, but it was not what you were looking for.

“You have lots of questions.”

“I can say the same about you.” You took a sip of your drink, your mouth watering at the potency of the liquid. Or, maybe it was because of the heavy-lidded gaze he was casting your way.

“If I was trying to impress a very attractive woman who’s looking at me like I’m an idiot, what do you think I should order to change her mind?” He asked, his eyes never leaving your face. You let out a small sigh, giving a shrug of your shoulders as you took another drink. Instead of replying, you turned back to face the bar, leaving him alone with his own thoughts. When the bartender came to take his order, he was still waiting for a reply. “I’ll take two of whatever she’s having.” The unnamed man said, hoping to grab your attention again.

“So, I’m the very attractive woman?” You asked, refusing to turn back to look at him. When the drinks were placed in front of him and he slid one your way, your question was given an indefinite answer. “What if you can’t change my mind?” You posed the idea to make him sweat, but his rebuttal was effortless.

“I have the rest of the night to keep trying, then.” Another smile twisted onto your lips, finding his charm irrefutable. Even if you weren’t interested in anything further than a simple conversation, you had to admit the effort was admirable.

“I wasn’t looking at you like you’re an idiot, by the way.” You said, swishing the ice around your glass. “Maybe I thought you were a little dumb, but not an idiot.”

“That’s a relief.” He said, a smile tugging on his lips, too. His response to your humour was definitely intriguing, and you were quite interested in his relaxed expression. “What’s your name, beautiful?”

“Y/n,” you said, finally accepting the glass he’d pushed in your direction after draining your own. He watched you, finding your lack of reciprocal attention peculiar, yet it only seemed to spark his interest even more.

“Are you going to ask for mine?”

“Mmm,” you hummed, debating his words before giving a shake of your head. “No.”

“Playing hard to get?” He joked, sipping away at his own whiskey.

“Just don’t care.” You shrugged. It was the truth; you weren’t doing so in attempt to play hard to get, but because you did not want to be caught at all. You had no interest in playing the game of cat and mouse, because you did not intend to leave the bar with anybody. You had a date with your bed and hopes of a good nights rest. You could not do that if you were busy wrapped around another. As attractive as he was, you weren’t willing to double back on your promises to yourself. Instead, you decided that it was best to stop any further attempts to change your mind.

“Ouch.” He chuckled, waiting to see if you were joking or not. You kept your head straight, wondering if you should leave before he continued on his tyrant. Then again, he was in your bar and this was your seat, so if anyone was leaving, it was not going to be you.

Your stubbornness was your biggest weakness, but you were too stuck in your own way to see the issue. As if the gods planned such a gruesome match from the very beginning, the only rival to your own obstinacy was the one living inside the man sat beside you. You were not willing to give in, and he was not willing to give up.

“Are you from here?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, hoping that if you kept your answers short he might take the hint.

“I just moved here, thought I’d check out the town, maybe meet some new people.” You gave a slow nod, eyes now focused on the football game playing on the television above the bar. You hated football, but you hated entertaining men even more. You’d rather watch a bunch of grown men fight over a ball than engage in any kind of small talk. “Not a talker, I see.”

“Usually that means you should move on and try again with someone else.” You said, picking away at the basket of French fries sat in front of you. If there was one thing the bar did that was just as good as cheap liquor, it was deep fried foods.

“Maybe I don’t want to.” He suggested. “Nobody else in here is worth the time.”

“And I am?” You chuckled, watching the team with red jerseys score a point. “You don’t even know me. I might be a serial killer, or even worse, celibate.”

“I’d like to know you.” He offered. “What makes you think that I’m looking for sex?” You looked over your shoulder at him, taking in his attire. You looked closely at the chains dangling around his neck, drawing attention to his shirt that was buttoned only up to his stomach. His dress pants looked name brand, and his eyes screamed flirtatiously at you when you locked your stare with him. He was radiating sex appeal, which argued your case for you.

“I bet you have two condoms sitting in your wallet. You replaced them this morning, because last night, you went to a different bar and did the same thing with another girl who couldn’t see right through you.” You guessed, eyes flickering to the pocket of his pants where the bulge of his wallet sat. “It’s written all over you, honey. Stick to the college bimbo’s if you want to get anywhere worthwhile.”

“Two condoms?” He pondered the idea, a smirk growing on his face. “I take that as a compliment.”

“You shouldn’t.” You laughed, shaking your head at his undying commitment to knowing you. “It wasn’t meant as one.”

“Then it seems like you have a knack for making insults sound like a good thing.” His eyes flickered to your lips, his personality showing through the mask for a moment. He was enamoured with you, and he was from the minute he sat down. Your disinterest was not a deterrent to him, but rather a driving force. The banter was driving him crazy, and he was not willing to go home without you.

“Maybe you just have no idea how to take a hint.” You suggested the idea, but both of you knew he was painfully aware of the situation. He knew he could step back if he so pleased, but he did not want to, nor was it an option he was willing to consider. Oddly enough, you almost found it charming. His dedication was not creepy or anything like it, mostly because he was not using vulgarity as part of his charm. You knew if you got up and walked away, he would respect it. Unfortunately, he knew just as well as you did that you would never back down and give up your seat. You could complain all you wanted about his interest in you, but you were encouraging it by interacting with him. Even in your obvious rejection, he knew he had interested you enough for you to speak to him.

“I’m Jake.” He said, disregarding your comment.

“I said I didn’t care.”

“Never said you had to care.” He reminded, finishing his drink and raising a hand to call the bartender over again. You watched him, baffled at his carelessness towards your clear insults. It seemed to wash off of him like water on a duck’s back, barely touching his confidence and only fuelling him further. He ordered another round of drinks for both of you, not bothering to ask if you wanted another. As he spoke to the bartender, you couldn’t help but study him for a moment. He was gorgeously dressed, drawing attention to his stunning features as he topped it off with a cocky attitude. Everything about him was compelling, and even if you weren’t keen on his company, it was incredibly difficult to ignore him. He held himself with confidence, and because of that, he radiated power. You would be lying if you said you did not find him attractive, but it did not change the fact that you were not interested in pursuing anything with him, or anyone for that matter.

Ray placed your new drinks in front of you, wasting little time in busying himself with something else. You almost felt guilty for being so mean to Jake while he was funding your night of drinking, but you did not ask him to spend money on you. You did not even ask him to speak to you, yet it seemed like the only thing he wanted to do. “Thanks.” You said, looking down at the ice swirling in the amber liquid. Even if you didn’t want to engage in any kind of sexual relations with him, you still had manners.

“So, what are you here for, tonight?” He questioned, ignoring your gratitude. He did not want to be thanked for something he was more than happy to do. You raised an eyebrow, curious about his inquiry. “Well, you’re drinking whiskey, so clearly it’s not fighting, dancing, or crying.” You chuckled at his recollections of your earlier comment.

“I’m here for a cheap drunk.” You replied, honest with your answer. “Cheapest whiskey in town, and the regulars aren’t too bad, considering I’m one of them.” He nodded along with your words, soaking in all you were willing to share. “Every Friday, same bar, same seat, same shitty football games.”

“You’re saying I have another shot if I mess this up?” He gave a playful smile which you couldn’t stop yourself from returning.

“Sure, you can take as many shots as you want. It’ll be the same answer every time, I can promise you that.”

“We’ll see.” He answered as if it were a challenge and he was competing. You rolled your eyes, unable to hold back the expression. “Just a conversation, that’s all I’m asking for. After that, you can throw your drink in my face and forget about me in the morning.”

“I know that it’s more than a conversation to you, Jacob.” You shot back. People like him were predictable, even if they were charming. As much as you knew he would waste your time, you knew you were wasting his. It was in his best interest to find a girl who was more likely to go home with him, because he would inevitably leave the bar empty handed and wishing he had taken a chance on another.

“Sounds like you’re scared I’m going to change your mind.” Your spine straightened at the accusatory statement. You were not afraid, and you did not like being told by another what you were feeling. What you did like was a challenge, and now that he’d worded it as such, that was the only thing you could think of.

“Fine. Let’s talk.” You smacked your palms against the table, a course of energy running through your body. You swung your chair to face him, just so he knew you were fully immersed in him. If he wanted to have a conversation, you could do that. If he thought he could convince you to take a chance on him, you were more than willing to prove him wrong.

It was a mistake that could only be classified as a fatality.

“Where are you from, Jake?” You asked, trying your best to feign intrigue.

“Michigan.” He tried to hide the smirk growing on his lips, pleased that he managed to push the right buttons. “You?”

“Right here in Nashville. Born and raised, never left, don’t want to.” You explained, waiting for him to ask a question, now.

“What do you do for work?”

“Photography.” You replied, not willing to delve deeper into the subject.

“That’s really cool.” He noted, genuine interest showing in his face. “I’m a musician.”

“I see,” you hummed, knowing that it was just another reason for you to abstain from knowing him. Musicians were never good news, and growing up in Nashville, you’d learned that the hard way. Most people who chased after fame had little care for anything else, and they were destined to break hearts. “Let me guess, guitar?”

“How’d you know?” He asked, but he didn’t really think it was hard to guess. It was the most common instrument in the industry, and in Nashville, everyone played guitar.

“Lucky guess.” You joked. “Band or solo act?”

“Band, I’m no singer.” He laughed.

“Don’t need to sing to be a good guitarist.” You challenged.

“Good point,” he agreed. “We just moved here, thought it was time. We made a few albums, but we’re looking for something bigger.”

“Are you any good?” You sipped at your drink. The quick-fire questions were wearing you down and you needed a pick me up.

“I’d like to think so, but everyone has their own opinion.” You hummed in agreement, not willing to make a promise to listen to his music, but curious about his skill. “Maybe we could get you to do a photoshoot for us.”

“I’m out of your price range.” You teased, a smile on your lips. The conversation was not unbearable, but definitely was not something you came to the bar with intent to do.

“I’m sure we could figure out a suitable payment.” He said, unable to hold back the drop in his voice and the lustful twinkle in his eye. You watched him, wanting to chastise him for the flirting, but you felt an unfamiliar feeling bubble in your stomach. You were immune to charm most of the time, but something about him was irresistible. You weren’t sure if it was the relaxed posture and the certainty in himself, or if it was the overwhelming beauty of him as a whole. Whatever it was, he was pulling you in without you even noticing. You were struggling to fight it mostly because it was so subtle. Before you could realize you were being trapped, there was no way you could escape.

“I thought this was just a friendly conversation, Jacob?” You couldn’t help the drawl in your tone that screamed for him to keep going. You wanted to blame it on the strength of the liquor in your cup lowering your inhibitions, mostly because you refused to admit it was solely due to his captivating stare.

“I don’t think I’m being unfriendly, sweetheart.” The nickname sent a shiver down your spine, so delightful even if it was filthy.

“Too friendly, perhaps?” You corrected. Both of you were leaning in to each other without even realizing it. The tension was thick in the air, and it had been from the moment he sat down. Even if you were not looking for anything more, you couldn’t deny the strength of the chemistry between you.

“What’s your issue with me?” He smirked, wanting to get to the bottom of it.

“It’s not you specifically.” You were truthful with your answer. It was not him, but rather dating as a whole. “The whole dating game was never my thing, and I don’t plan on getting into it, now.”

“Who said anything about dating?” He challenged.

“Nobody, but I don’t like hookups, either.” You explained. “Something about pointless small talk and meaningless sex never really interested me. Why would I want to tell you about myself now just to try to forget you in the morning?”

“I’d like to think that you’d have a hard time forgetting about me.” He was cocky, and that was for certain. It was something that would usually be a turn-off, but it looked so good on him that you couldn’t seem to shoot him down. “What about something in the middle?”

“What could possibly be in the middle of that?” You scoffed. “I don’t want a hookup, and I definitely don’t want to go to breakfast in the morning. I like my personal space, and I like being alone. Knowing you complicates that, and I hate complicated.”

“Do you like having friends?”

“I think I’d be a bit strange if I didn’t.” You replied. “But I know you’re not looking to be friends.”

“Do you like sex?” He continued his questioning without even acknowledging your concerns. Although it was blunt and definitely not a normal topic of conversation for two people who just met, it did not bother you.

“Most do.” You took another sip of your drink, the warmth spreading to your chest and replacing the burn of arousal brewing in your stomach. “Depends if it’s good or not.”

“We can be friends that have really good sex.” He offered, raising an eyebrow while he waited for a response. When you didn’t answer, he continued trying to sell the idea. “Casual, no strings attached whatsoever, but you wouldn’t need to forget about me, and we wouldn’t be obligated to go to breakfast in the morning.”

“How can I agree to that when I’m not even sure I want to be friends with you? More than that, I have no idea if you’re as good as you think you are. I don’t like being disappointed, Jacob.” You were calling a bluff you knew did not exist. He looked as if he was put on this earth to please others in ways many could never imagine. Just looking at his hands made your mouth water, already knowing the power he held in them. You couldn’t even think of anything further than that, because you knew that it would be far beyond anything you had ever felt before. You were trying not to crack under the pressure, but the thought of his head between your thighs was making it nearly impossible to breathe. “Besides, what if I’m not all you think I am? You don’t seem like the type to like disappointment, either.”

“From what I’ve seen, I don’t think you have it in you to disappoint, sweetheart.” His hand slowly reached out, fingers ever so slightly grazing the exposed skin on your leg. The touch was searing, painful but addicting. “I don’t like dating, but I do like you. I think it would be a shame if we never saw each other again.”

“Getting sick of playing the game every night?” You theorized. “Sounds like you’re getting lazy.” He shook his head, eyes seemingly staring into your soul as he watched your face.

“I just know what I want,” he corrected “and I don’t think I need to keep looking.” It was impossible to believe he was lying, because the look in his eye spoke certainty without him needing to say anything more.

“So, friends who have really good sex?” You clarified.

“Friends who have phenomenal sex, actually.” He said.

“I’m a busy woman, Jake. You better not be looking to waste my time.” You explained. “If I’m going to find time to entertain you, it better be worth it.”

“I’m a busy man,” he agreed “but I know how to make it worth your while.”

“Theoretically, if we did decide to do this, we’d just be having sex?” You asked, wanting to be certain of the situation. “You aren’t going to fall in love and fuck it all up?”

“I’m sure we can have a drink at the bar together every now and again. That’s where the friends part comes in, but yes, just sex.” He laughed. “I like you, I find you incredibly attractive and interesting, and I would like to see you again after tonight, but the same way we’re doing it right now. Maybe with less insults.”

“I can’t promise the insult thing.” You found yourself laughing alongside him. “You’re a very forward person, you know. We barely know each other.”

“I know you enough to know that I like you, and I also know that you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen since moving here.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Jake.” You could feel your cheeks burning, but you weren’t sure if it was because of the alcohol or his sweet words.

“It’s worked so far.” He breathed, finding himself leaning closer to you. Your faces were inches apart, both of you able to close the gap with little struggle. His eyes were locked with yours, silently begging you to give in to him. You could feel him pulling you in, almost as if he had his own gravitational force and you were the only victim of it. Although, you knew that wasn’t true. With charm like his, you were sure that you were not the only one cowering underneath the weight of it. For tonight, you were his focus, but when the morning came, you figured he would forget the idea of casual sex and already be in search of another. Players loved to play, and they always fought dirty. You were certain he was just saying what he could to get in your pants and he would be a different person when you woke in the morning.

His hand slipped to your hip, the touch was euphoric even through the material of your dress. You wanted to give in, but you thought it was too good to be true. Someone interested in meeting your physical needs without imposing on your everyday routine seemed like a great idea, but it was so perfect that you had a hard time believing it could be so simple. Even considering your fears, the ache between your legs was impossible to ignore, and it had been a long time since you had felt pleasure at the hands of another. “This sounds like a bad idea.” You warned, eyes flickering to his lips. His nose was brushing against yours now, sending jolts of electricity through you.

“Do you trust me?” He whispered, so quiet that it was almost hard to hear him over the music playing in the background.

“Not really.” You laughed, but just barely. You were scared to move away, and you were scared to move forward.

“One night, and if you still think it’s a bad idea, we can just forget about it.” He offered, still so close you could feel the warmth of his breath. He smelled like whiskey, and you were sure you caught a hint of a Cuban cigar. He was intoxicating, more so than any alcoholic beverage you had consumed that night. Your head was spinning and your rationality was slipping away. You were enamoured with him, and you felt like you were completely consumed by his presence. The world stopped turning, the music stopped playing; the only thing you could hear was your heartbeat which was in time with his own.

“One night?” You breathed, coming to terms with the idea that he was inescapable. You knew you should have walked away when you had the chance, but there was a bigger part of you that was grateful you stayed. You had the opportunity to add some excitement to your life without changing anything at all. You didn’t come to the bar in search of a thrill, but Jake seemed to be promising enough. No worry of a hookup that left you unfulfilled and regretful, and no expectation for anything more. It was exactly what you needed, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

“One night. Trial run.” He reiterated, hoping to ease your mind. “That sound good to you, angel?” You went weak at the pet name, all of your willpower dissolving into an imminent need for more. You reached your hand up, cupping his cheek in your palm and bridged the gap between you. His fingers tightened on you, enthusiastic about your sudden change of heart. The kiss was laced with the weight of every sinful desire you had ever felt before, and even more than that. It was so profound that it made your chest ache and you feared that if there was a god, he would never forgive you for the sacrilegious things you so badly wanted to commit with the man before you. “Thought I couldn’t change your mind?” He asked, barely parted from you. You could feel him smirk against your lips, but it wasn’t even aggravating enough for you to care.

“Shut up and take me home, Jacob.” You said, unwilling to wait any longer in fear you might talk yourself out of it. Instead of a verbal response, he placed another kiss on your lips before turning to close out the tab you had run up. Within a few moments, your jacket was over your shoulders and he was calling you both a cab.

In the backseat of the car, you both tried your best to keep it PG, but the tension of the night was reaching a climatic end. His hand was permanently anchored on your thigh just under the skirt of your dress, fingertips dangerously close to the parts of you he was so desperate to know. Your hand was on his wrist, holding it tightly just to make sure he didn’t get any ideas that would get you in trouble. In hindsight, it was incredibly stupid for you to agree to go to a strangers house for the promise of sex. You had no idea if he was as genuine as he appeared, yet it seemed a bit too late for that concern. You also had no idea how he managed to coerce you into joining him, but a part of you was ecstatic that he did. The calloused fingertips dancing over the soft skin of your leg led you to believe that your decision would benefit you greatly, because no average person could produce such an impact with such a little effort.

Jake handed a bill to the driver once the car was parked in the driveway of an apartment complex. He didn’t wait for the change, but did utter a small thanks before rushing out to open your door for you. “A gentleman.” You noted. He gave a chuckle, slipping his arm around your waist as he guided you towards the door. He let you both inside, keeping quiet as he led you to his apartment. He unlocked his door, holding it open for you and allowing you to go first. You took in the sight, noticing the simplistic nature of the decor as you took off your shoes.

“It’s not much, but it’s home.” He said, flipping on a light for you.

“No, it’s cute. I like it.” You assured him, feeling nervousness begin to creep in. The air smelled like him, but you couldn’t place the familiarity. It was earthy, smoky, and overall enticing. In the kitchen, you noticed a couple frames on the walls with pictures of him and three other boys. Your eyes lingered over the faces, smiling as you studied them. You turned your head to look into the living room, noticing a record player under the dim yellow lighting of a lamp. There was a few posters splayed on the walls and a couple plants sitting on the windowsills. It was not what you were expecting, but you thought it was effortlessly him. You did not know him very well, but from what you knew of him, the vibe seemed to match the personality.

His hand landed on your lower back, causing you to jump slightly under his touch. “You okay?” He asked, looking down at you.

“Yeah,” you nodded, trying to cover up the anxious look on your face. “You’re not… you’re not going to kill me, are you? Because that would suck.” He let out a laugh, a true one that was loud and came straight from his chest.

“No, sweetheart, I can promise you I’m not going to kill you.” He said, turning you to face him. You looked up at him, seeing genuineness written all over his expression. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before taking your chin between his fingers. “You don’t have to worry about that. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Okay,” you sighed, feeling relief flood your body. You knew that it was irrational, but hearing the words of comfort helped. He leaned down, placing a kiss on your lips as reassurance. “Is that the rest your band in those pictures?” You asked, finding the courage for conversation again. He looked to the frames, nodding his head.

“Yeah.” Without hesitation, he guided you towards them so you could get a closer look. “That one’s Josh, he’s my twin brother. He sings.” He pointed at the boy with short, curly hair. You did notice how similar their faces looked now that you were a bit closer. You thought it was cool that he was a twin, and you wondered if his brother had the same irrefutable charm. “That one is Sam, he’s my youngest brother, and he plays the bass.” He pointed towards the tall boy with long, brown hair. They also looked strikingly similar, and if he hadn’t already told you that Josh was his twin, you might have mistaken Sam to be one. “And that’s Daniel, our drummer. He’s Sam’s best friend, but he’s more like a brother, too.”

“That’s really cool, actually.” You said, looking back over at him. “You guys won the genetic lottery, looks and talent-wise.” The hand he had resting on your back tightened at the compliment as a smile began to blossom on his face. You could tell how much the other three boys meant to him without him even saying a word. “So, do you do this tour with everyone you bring home, or am I just special?”

“No, you’re just special.” He said without missing a beat. You felt your cheeks tinge red at his words, not expecting him to be so blunt. “Besides, friends need to know each other, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You suddenly remembered that you were not there with the intent of being a one night stand. You would have asked him more, but you had a sneaking suspicion the tour was coming to an end. You both seemed to overcome your streak of anxiety and remembered the state that you arrived in. “So, are you going to prove that you weren’t bluffing, or are we just going to stand here all night?” He looked down at you, intrigued in your change of direction.

“Do you think I was bluffing?” He asked, shifting to face you. You looked up at him, giving a slight shrug of your shoulders.

“If the shoe fits.” You barely had time to process his reactive expression, because his hands were on your hips and his mouth was on your own. With the new found freedoms of privacy, desperation made its first appearance of the night. His hands were groping you with a feral attitude, and yours were doing just the same. It took no time for you to undo the buttons of his shirt, brushing it off his shoulders with excitement to see more. He let go of you only for long enough to slip the fabric off his body, then his hands returned to you in the same fervent manner.

The warmth of his skin was intoxicating, pulling you further into his web and trapping you there for eternity. You knew that despite your promises of only spending a single night together, you would be crawling back to him begging for more before the morning even came. In the (very) short time you’d known him, it was incredibly apparent to you that he was an addiction that was impossible to overcome. He was injecting himself into your veins, burrowing under your skin and filling your lungs with his being. You weren’t sure if it was purposefully, or if it was just an extension of his outlandish charm.

He took you by surprise, his grip tightening on your hips just before he lifted you with ease. He took a few steps forward, sitting you gently on his kitchen counter. He was quick to find home between your legs, never once breaking the kiss. You let your fingers dance over his now bare bicep, wanting to familiarize yourself with every part of him. When he finally pulled away, you were both breathless with stars in your eyes. “Do you still think I’m bluffing, or do I have to prove myself?”

“If I say no, it would ruin all the fun.” You sighed, still trying to catch your breath.

“I guess it’s a good thing I was going to prove it, anyway.” His fingers snaked under your dress, creeping up to your hip where the elastic of your underwear was resting. He hooked them through the side, but did not go any further. “Let’s go over some rules, first.”

“I hate rules,” you said, only focused on the sensation of his fingers resting on your bare skin. “They’re meant to be broken, anyway.”

“Not with me, sweetheart.” He chuckled, his other hand guiding your chin up so you would keep your eyes locked with his. “I’m going to be easy on you, but I need you to be honest with me about what you want. Got it?”

“Okay.” You nodded, the power in his gaze making your squirm underneath him.

“Remember your colours. Green means keep going, yellow means slow down, red means stop. Never, never be scared of telling me to stop or slow down.” The topic was not up for debate, and you were under clear understanding of what he needed from you.

“Okay.” You repeated, nodding your head against his hold. “Any other colours I should know?”

“How about blue, for ‘this is the best sex I’ve ever had’?” He smirked, playfulness sparkling in his eyes.

“Don’t expect to hear that one.” You teased, eyes flickering to his lips in hopes he would kiss you again. Your last jab seemed to motivate him to do so, but this time he didn’t seem as enthusiastic.

“Careful.” He warned. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty, or I wouldn’t be so nice.”

“How thoughtful.” You made sure your sarcasm was apparent. He seemed fired up at your response, but was not comfortable enough with you yet to show it. Or, perhaps he was afraid to scare you away. “Any other rules I should keep in mind?”

“Hmm,” he hummed, happy you asked. “You refer to me as ‘Sir’.” You had to bite your lip to stifle a laugh. The request was silly to you, and he was aware that you thought so. You had little desire to refer to someone you just met as ‘Sir’. Even if the dom/sub dynamic was something you enjoyed, you couldn’t deny that you liked to push buttons, and his seemed like so much fun to mess with.

“I think that’s a title you have to earn, don’t you?” You raised an eyebrow, feeling him tense under your touch. He shifted his hold on your face, grabbing your cheeks between his fingers and raising an eyebrow at you. The look in his eye made you believe that his patience was already beginning to run thin. You fought back an eye roll, but couldn’t ignore the throbbing feeling between your legs that was growing stronger by the second. “Whatever you want, Sir.” You made sure to accentuate the emotion in the word, showcasing your feelings about the situation.

“Lose the attitude,” he ordered, but seemed pleased with the compliance. “If you’re good for me, I’ll be good to you.” Even in his dominating performance, he seemed to be gentle with you. He did not want to push you too far on the first try, mostly because he wanted to ensure you would come back for more. He liked you, and not just because he thought you were gorgeous. He liked the fire that seemed to burn in your heart, and the way you always had a comeback for any of his comments. He was not shy to admit that he was completely infatuated with you, and even if he was not interested in dating, he did think it would be a shame if he could not see you again once the night was through.

“I’ll be so good for you, Sir. I promise.” A smirk was plastered across your lips as you spoke, driving him crazy without even trying too hard. You couldn’t help yourself from messing with him. He was extremely attractive and you were very interested in what he had to offer, but you had never been the type to take orders without a fight. It appeared like he loved order, and you had always loved pushing boundaries.

It was a match made in hell, and both of you were completely blind to it.

“And you think I talk a lot?” He questioned, giving a hard tug on the fabric of your underwear. It tightened against your skin only for a moment before it snapped, giving him the freedom to do as he pleased with you.

“Hey,” you protested, your eyebrows knitting together in annoyance. “Those were expensive.”

“I’ll replace them.” He assured you, sliding his hand to the other side to do the same.

“So you’re offering to be a sugar daddy, now? Didn’t know that was part of the deal.” You huffed, using your hands to prop yourself up off the counter. With your new position, he removed the ripped fabric from you completely.

“Offering to replace what I destroyed doesn’t mean I’m paying you to fuck me.” He said, bunching the skirt of your tight dress and pushing it to your hips. You let yourself back down on the counter, the cool marble taking you by surprise. “I don’t need to pay you for that. We both know you’ll be back on your own accord.”

“You’re awfully sure of yourself.” You argued, watching as his fingertips dusted over your bare thighs. You wanted to quiver under the touch, but you couldn’t allow him the satisfaction. His eyes flickered to your face, clearly displeased by your constant rebuttals. “Sir.” You added, noticing the muscles in his jaw tense as his teeth clenched together. He continued forward, inching his fingers between your legs. He gave one forceful move of his wrist and spread them for you. A gasp of surprise slipped out as he brought his fingers to your cunt and ran them through the arousal that was pooling.

“And you talk a lot of shit for someone who wants to get fucked.” His voice was low, now completely unconcerned about your bratty attitude. He was done with the conversation, and he was more than ready to get you to stop talking. His fingers gathered the wetness, slowly trailing upward to your clit. He started with slow circles, his touch light as a feather and only serving as a reminder of what you were there for. You leaned back slightly, allowing him easier access to you. “Now, let’s hear something worthwhile come out of your mouth.” He applied a bit more pressure, the feeling already distracting you from your desire to argue. “How does that feel, angel?” He asked, sliding his thumb in place of his fingers and continuing his earlier pace.

“G-good,” you stuttered, amazed at the pleasure he was giving you just from the small movement. You weren’t sure if it was so good because of his talent, or if it had just been too long since you had felt the touch of another like such. At the positive nature of your comment, he found enough generosity to slowly add his fingers to you, pumping them slowly to give you some extra stimulation. “Fuck, baby.” You sighed, letting your head fall forward to rest on his own forehead. He could not chastise you for not using the term he’d asked you to, mostly because the pet name sounded so beautiful coming from your mouth.

In that moment, he was certain he would let you call him whatever you wanted as long as you said it in the same sweet tone.

“This is what you wanted, hmm?” He whispered, moving his thumb in time with the pump of his fingers, keeping the pace as the pressure steadily began rising in your belly. “Is this why you were being so bratty? You just wanted me to touch you?”

“Yes, sir.” You muttered, eyes fluttering closed as he curled his fingers upwards. He was making you feel far too good for you to want to disobey his orders.

“So, that’s the trick.” He chuckled, eyes intently focused on his hand working at your cunt. “Just need to give you some attention and that will shut you up.” He rasped, the sight of you nearly sending him feral. He was desperate for relief himself, but unwilling to show it until he knew you were well taken care of. If he wanted you to come back, he needed to give you something to make you want to come back.

“Please, don’t stop.” You pleaded, feeling a thin layer of sweat form over your face. Your heart was pounding against your chest and your breathing was laboured. The pressure was unbearable, and the threat of an orgasm was imminent. You could not even find it within yourself to hold off, nor taunt him any further. It had been so long since you had felt pleasure at the hands of another, and you had never felt it quite it the same as he was giving you.

“Already?” He teased, but his tone was incredibly soft. He didn’t care that you were already there, and if anything, he took it as a compliment to his work. “Has nobody been taking care of you, angel?” He made it a point to perfect his movements, not wanting to lose the momentum even for a second. “Answer me,” he whispered, but the order was firm.

“N-no,” you shook your head against him, honesty radiating from you. You couldn’t really hide anything in such an intimate display, and you knew even if you tried to lie to him, he would easily see through you. “Nobody.”

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore, sweet girl.” He assured you. The pet name washed over you like summer rain, enveloping you in warmth and surrounding you with a comfort that would last as long as he continued to touch you. “I’ll take care of her, just like she deserves.” A whimper fell from your lips at the sound of his words, overwhelmed by the vulgarity and weak from the heartfelt promise. He felt you clench around his fingers, knowing that you were ready to come undone. He was more than willing to give you the orgasm, almost as desperate as you were for it. After an entire night of only being shot down, the gratification from taking you for his own was unexplainable. “Cum for me, angel. I know you want to.” He purred, moving his free hand to the back of your head for extra support. The last thing he wanted was for you to lose balance and be distracted from the pleasure.

“Oh, god.” You groaned, eyes screwed shut as your mind dissolved into nothing but thoughts about the man before you. You were praying to him as if he were the god that created the earth for you to walk on, and in that moment, he was. As the orgasm washed over you, the only thing to exist in the entirety of the universe was Jake, and you were perfectly content with the power he possessed.

But, he was not a god, nor anything holy. Jake was the devil reincarnate, and he was not there as a reward for your courageous sacrifices. He was there as punishment for every mistake and every sin you had committed in this lifetime and all the ones before. In that moment, he seemed like he was put in your life as a blessing, a gift for the troubles you had endured, but the reality was harsh and you were completely blind to it. When your mind cleared and the haze of sexual tension lifted, you were able to look deeper into the ties that held you together with him, but even then it did not seem to matter. His work was done, and you had fallen victim to the temptation. Jake would be the solution to every sexual desire that you could even imagine would come, but he would be the root cause for a world of trouble you had been desperately trying to stay away from.

Jake was the type of person you could fall in love with, and despite your hatred for dating and all things that came along with it, you were in long past in love just by the first touch. You were addicted to him, and dependancy was infinitely worse than love according to your standards. The power he possessed in his hands was otherworldly, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine what else he had in store for you. Your agreement for a single night would be the worst decision you had ever made, but like all bad decisions, you would not realize the extent of the issue until it was long past repairable.

You were brought back to reality by Jake removing his hand from you. The loss of contact was nearly excruciating, and you were desperate for him to keep going until the both of you collapsed in a heap of exhaustion. Even then, you were sure you could still find enough energy to wrap yourself around him once more. “How was that, angel?” He hummed, pulling back from you only slightly. You looked up at him, your eyes heavy-lidded and your body still trembling with the ghost of the orgasm.

“It was so good,” you sighed, already reminiscing on the memory. He gave you a smirk, so small that it was barely noticeable, but you picked up on it. You were certain that you would study ever minuscule detail and movement until it drove you to insanity. He was so captivating that he was the only thing you wanted to know about. He raised his fingers to his lips, sliding his middle finger in his mouth while holding a steady eye contact with you. When his finger landed on his tongue, his eyes fluttered closed in bliss, savouring the taste of your orgasm for as long as he could. After a few seconds, he pulled the digit from his lips, leaving a slight echo of a pop ringing through the air.

“Taste even better than I imagined.” He muttered. Your entire body prickled with an unfamiliar feeling, and you thought you might come undone again just at the sight. Your skin was ablaze with arousal, and your chest was burning with need for him. You had little care about what he was going to do next, and you were just happy to be on the receiving end of it. “See, it wasn’t so hard to be good for me, was it?”

“No, sir.” You breathed, watching him in awe. He took in a long breath, letting the word settle deep in his bones with pride.

“Can you keep being a good girl for me?” He asked, his voice barely breaking through the air.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded, making sure he knew you were being truthful. He smiled at the sound, crouching down slightly and hooking his legs under your thighs. Gently, he brought you to the edge of the countertop, wasting no time before bringing his mouth to your cunt. It was a fantastic apology for the withdrawal of his hands, and it send you straight back into a cloud of euphoria. Your hands snaked to his hair, pulling at the roots in attempt to get him closer than he already was.

His tongue found your clit with little hesitation, and he was working at you like a man starved. His fingers were branding your thighs with marks bound to last long past the excitement, and you didn’t care a bit about it. The evil laced within the movements of his tongue was incomprehensible, much greater than anything he had bestowed upon you with his fingers. You wanted to believe that the man nestled between your thighs was purely human that had just been blessed with otherworldly charm, but you were beginning to have your doubts about the matter. You feared that he was an entity you had not yet encountered, one with strength and power you could not comprehend.

By the first touch, you were in too deep to pull yourself out, and now, you had done nothing but cement the foundation of the entanglement so strongly that not even an earthquake could shake it. He was so powerful that he made it seem natural, and it was almost terrifying. He could leech your life supply directly from the source without you even noticing, and once he began, it felt too good to stop him. He made it appear that you were the one controlling the situation, yet the control had never even been close enough for your fingertips to graze. He was inhuman, and that much you were sure of. The evil was so abundant inside of him that not even a priest could expel it enough to free him.

You knew this to be true, because as your eyes drifted downwards towards him, you could have sworn you saw the shadow of devil horns on the wall when the city lights broke through the darkness just right.

You did not have the luxury to focus on your revelations, because he had brought his hand back to you and continued at his earlier pace. A guttural moan tore from your chest, the feeling overwhelming and making it unable to focus on anything other than him. You finally understood why he was not interested in dating; he was so good at sex that it would be a waste of talent to only share it with one person. It made you curious as to why he was interested in a casual relationship with you, and why he thought that you were the golden ticket to fulfilling all of his needs. You were not anything fantastic, nor were you offering him anything substantial. You could not understand the potential he saw in you, but if he was willing to give you the promise of his hands and his tongue, you would be a fool to refuse it.

You were certain you could not only live, but thrive off the pleasure he was giving you for the rest of your life. If he was interested in a casual commitment to each other, low effort but with a glorious reward, you were more than happy to participate in the agreement. You were certain enough in yourself to cut him off if it got too intense, and you were committed enough to your own security to know when it was time to end things. In the meantime, harmless fun sounded fantastic, and he could provide just that. Besides, he looked too ethereal with his head between your thighs to worry about any consequences. Despite it only being the first time, he was so effortless with his work that it appeared as if he always belonged there.

“Fuck, Jake.” You hissed, finding it hard to keep holding yourself upright. Your arm was shaking underneath the weight of your body, and you cared so little about falling that you didn’t even bother to stop him so you could reposition. The pressure in your belly was intense, letting you know that you were close to the end anyway, and you didn’t need to take any precaution. If he continued at the same pace, you wouldn’t be able to contain your second orgasm of the night.

He hummed against you, showing his enthusiasm about your enjoyment. He made sure to curl his fingers again, remembering that you had enjoyed it the first time he had done it. A rush of pleasure ran through you and your legs involuntarily tightened against his head. Your body seemed to have a mind of its own, completely disconnected from your brain and doing whatever it could to keep him there. The movement did not deter him, but only encouraged him further. With one last flick of his tongue in just the right place, you were driven over the edge and crying out his name. Your whole body was rigid, the intensity unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. If his intent truly was to give you the best sex of your life, he had went above and beyond to accomplish it, and you weren’t even to the best part, yet.

He slowly pulled back as he noticed you relax against him, instead peppering kisses on the insides of your thighs. As you both attempted to catch your breath, the tension in the air was at an all time high. You were eager for more, and he was eager to get started. When your mind cleared and you were able to form a coherent thought, you looked down at him with adoration sparkling in your eyes. “Blue.” You whispered, your voice raspy and your throat coarse from the noises he had pried from you. He looked up at the sound, unable to hide the smile on his face. His eyes told you that you had just given him the greatest compliment he’d ever received.

“Really?” He said as if he were pondering the truth of the statement. “I’m just getting started.”

“Really.” You sighed, nodding your head. It was a sad sigh, mostly because you hated admitting that he had been right all along. But, you had always been one to believe that you should give credit where credit is due, and this was definitely a perfect example of the philosophy. “I’ll even clean your counters for you, since I was the one who made the mess.” You chuckled, feeling your cheeks heat with a blush.

“Don’t worry about that,” he brushed you off, rising to his feet. “That was the best meal this kitchen has ever seen.” You rolled your eyes at the comment, but couldn’t help the smile that was blossoming on your lips. Even in his boyish humour, there was still an unexplainable charm laced into it. Everything about him was irresistible, and you couldn’t seem to get enough of him. You held on to his arm for support as you got down off the counter, refusing to let go until you were steady on your feet. You reached up, cupping his face in your hands and bringing him into another kiss. The suddenness distracted him from his comment, and he was immediately immersed in you once again. You pulled his bottom lip between your teeth, a gentle tease and a thank you for his service. You could feel him start to smile as you pulled away.

Without any further conversation, you slowly sunk to your knees in front of him. It took him a second to process your change in direction, but he certainly could not find a complaint about it. He was painfully hard, his erection strained against his pants as he waited for you to proceed. You made the process as slow as possible, needing to resume your commitment to your teasing. You knew it was driving him crazy, and if you had to admit, you loved it. You brought your hand to his belt, unbuckling it and pulling it from the loops. You discarded it on the floor, moving next to the button and zipper. You unzipped it painfully slow, making sure to hold eye contact with him while you did so. With his help, his pants were also discarded in the floor, leaving him only in his boxers.

Your mouth was watering at the thought of what was beneath the thin material, eager to please him after such a phenomenal performance from him. With a little courage, you took the final step in freeing him from his boxers. You felt another rush of arousal straight to your core at the sight. He was desperate for relief, but he was allowing you to make the first move; as excited as he was, he cared greatly about your comfortability and wanted you to know you had the option to change your mind if needed. You moved forward, parting your lips slightly as you took him into your mouth. He let out a hiss of pleasure at the feeling, the stimulation small but still fantastic. The sound gave you a boost of confidence, knowing that he would enjoy whatever you were offering him.

You relaxed your jaw, focusing on his head just for a moment. You let your tongue flick over the sensitive area a few times, revelling in the sounds of enjoyment coming from him. You thought they were the most beautiful sounds you had ever heard, and you would go to the ends of the earth to continue pleasing him just to hear them again. After a moment, you drew in a long breath before taking him in further. You took him far enough for the tip of his cock to hit the back of your throat, then you began to bob your head. His head fell backwards in bliss as his hand reached to gather your hair from your face. You let out a moan against him, the vibration intensifying the feeling for him.

You had never been so willing to submit to a man, let alone a stranger on a one night stand, but you were willing to do it all for him. He was intoxicating, and you wanted to live in the filthy, drunken hookup for the rest of your life. It was exhilarating, and you had never experienced sex that was so enjoyable. Usually, the men talked themselves up so much that they inevitably underperformed. With some, it was easy to overlook the disappointment because they left you with an orgasm or two, but most didn’t even meet that quota. Never in your life had you found someone who was so concerned with your pleasure, and never one who was so willing to give before receiving anything himself. It was practically unheard of in modern dating and hookup culture, and you weren’t willing to let him slip through your fingers.

If he wanted casual with no strings attached, you would oblige to the request without any further hesitation. He had proved himself beyond anything you could have imagined, and your only hope was that you could do the same.

He let out a sigh, holding your hair tightly in his fist. He couldn’t stop himself from guiding your head down on him, the need for more too much to resist. “You look even prettier with my cock in your mouth.” He muttered, looking down at you while you tried to keep up with his guidance. Your eyes flickered upwards, catching his stare through your lashes. He was feral looking, his jaw hard set with a flame dancing in his pupils. He was crazy for you, and he felt no need to hide it. You let out a hum of agreement, the vibration adding a little more energy to the sensation he was already experiencing. “Fuck, angel.” He groaned, adding a little more force to his hand. “Just tap my leg if you need me to stop.”

With that, he began moving your head for you, completely taking the control. He tried his best to keep it tolerable for you, but he was succumbing to the pleasure more with each second that passed. You tried your best to focus on your breathing rather than the feeling of him down your throat, but it was growing difficult with each thrust of his hips. Tears were forming in your eyes, smudging mascara down your cheeks, and you were fighting a gag with every movement. You were too stubborn to give up, but you had to admit that his size was a bit hard to handle. His grip on your hair was tight, and he seemed too enthralled in the moment to notice your struggle.

He pushed your head down on him, his cock sliding down your throat as his head fell back in bliss. Your eyes squeezed shut as your throat constricted around him, the gag no longer able to be prevented. He let out a long slur of curses laced with a moan, enjoying every second of your suffering. You had to admit that you were enjoying it too, and you knew that you would do it a million times over again just to please him. You felt him twitch in your mouth, a sure sign that he was close, but he wasn’t willing to risk ending the fun. He withdrew, finally allowing you a full breath of air. You coughed a few times, clearing your throat and bringing yourself back to reality. He kneeled down to your level, eyes carefully inspecting your face.

He did enjoy the sight of you so disheveled, but he worried that he went a little too far. He brought his thumb to your cheek, wiping away the tear stains as you wiped your chin clean from any spit still lingering. “You want me to fuck you now, baby?”

“Yes, please.” You muttered, nodding your head eagerly. He helped you to your feet, leaning down and capturing you in a kiss that lasted only a few seconds.

“Let’s get this off of you.” He mumbled against your lips, his hands snaking under the bunched up material of your dress. You pulled back from him, lifting your arms and allowing him to slip it over your head. He tossed it to the floor, but his eyes were only focused on your now fully exposed body. He took in a long breath, trying his best to contain the filthy thoughts he was having, but it was showing clearly in his expression alone. You watched him, silent and unmoving while you awaited his next move. Slowly, he brought his hands back to you, gentle in his touch as if he thought you were fragile. In truth, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen some so beautiful before and he wanted to take his time to fully admire you.

His hands dropped to your hips as he guided you towards him and your hands reached out for him, already yearning to feel him on your skin again. He kissed you again, more intense than the one before and this time, he didn’t seem keen on breaking it. In a swift motion, he picked you up once more. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. Instead of placing you on the counter again, he turned around and broke the kiss just for a moment to see what his next move would be. His eyes landed on the kitchen table, his train of thought apparent without him even speaking a word. He took two steps forward, holding you tightly with one hand to make sure he wouldn’t drop you. He inspected the surface that was littered with papers and journals full of half-written songs.

With little care, he took his free hand and swiped away all of the items with a single movement. You turned your head, looking to watch all of papers float to the floor with little grace. You couldn’t deny that his actions only turned you on more; the desperation laced within his solution was hot, much like everything else he had done that night. He bent down, placing you on the table with caution. He let his hands fall back to your hips, pulling you to the edge of the table so he could have easy access to you. His hand drifted to your lower back as he brought his lips to your neck, finding the most sensitive spots straight away. You barely knew him, and you barely knew anything about him, but he seemed to know your body better than anyone ever had before. It was like he had a greater understanding of you than even yourself.

A breathy moan sounded from you as he sucked light marks into the skin just below your ear. One of his hands came to your chest, happy that your lack of clothing was giving him the opportunity to know all of you. He let his thumb drift over your nipple, sending a surge of electricity straight through you. Everything he was doing felt amazing, but you were done with the foreplay, even if it was fantastic. The tension was so strong that you thought you might break underneath the weight of it.

“Please fuck me, Jake.” You begged, delirious from all of the stimulation that you were feeling. “I need you.” His eyes rolled back in his head at the sound, addicted to the feeling of being needed by you. It was better than any drug and stronger than any other addiction. He would do whatever he could to make sure you always wanted him that way.

“How can I say no when you ask so nicely?” He threw out the rhetoric, not expecting an answer from you. Instead he hiked your leg up and around him, making sure you took the hint to hold it there. “Didn’t realize you were such a little whore.” The word knocked the air from your lungs, replacing it with a venomous desire. Your chest was burning from how badly you needed him, and you knew that you would do anything just to be insulted by him, because even hurtful words sounded pleasant coming from his mouth. It was a luxury to be a whore for him, and you were an idiot for trying so hard to turn him down.

You felt him line himself up with your entrance, both of you aching for relief, knowing that the sex was bound to be beyond anything you had been imagining all night. “You want me, angel?” He asked, his voice husky and filled with lust. You caught sight of his eyes, which were now completely unfamiliar to you. The warm brown that was so inviting was not black with desire, and a different man was standing before you.

If you had to admit, you liked this one much better.

“Please, sir. Need you inside of me.” You whispered, sweetly and softly to coax him into giving you what you wanted. The gentle tone seemed to drive him over the edge, and without any further consideration, he pushed himself inside you. You both let out a mutual sigh of satisfaction at the feeling, but you were both already wanting more. He could not bother with a slow start, knowing that neither of you wanted to take things easy. His rocked his hips while keeping a firm hold on your hips, making sure nothing could disturb the long awaited pleasures.

You wrapped an arm around his neck, already finding yourself bargaining with an orgasm. If he was an evil entity, his trade was sex, and you knew he could use it for punishment and reward. Something about him was otherworldly, and you started to fear that your agreement with him would ultimately be your demise. He made you feel too good to want to let go of him, but the idea of the relationship getting messy was paralyzingly terrifying. At the same time, rationality was only second to the way he made you feel, and heartbreak was a risk you were willing to take to indulge in his sin.

“Fuck, Jake.” You groaned, tangling your fingers in the roots of his hair.

“Does that feel good, baby?” He did not need to ask the question; he already knew the answer, and the affirmation was solely to further his growing ego.

“Feels so fucking good.” You whimpered, struggling to keep your leg wrapped around him while he continued on his brutal pace. He was hitting the perfect angle, a pleasurable pain shooting through you with every re-entry. He used his arm to guide your upper half down towards the table, and you used a free hand to hold yourself up.

“Being so good for me, angel.” His fingers reached between your legs while his gaze stayed focused on your face, enthralled in the expressions you were making. Your eyes squeezed shut in bliss as he found your clit again, rubbing circles as he continued to fuck you. You thought it almost comical that he called you angel, because you were so convinced that he was the devil. The two did not seem to coincide with each other, yet you remained tangled up in each other in what felt like perfect harmony.

The feeling of him inside you was overwhelming, much more intense than you expected, and it was a feeling you wished to have forever. You would be perfectly content if you lived out your next sixty years in the same position, with his hands on you and his sweet words whispered in your ear. His fingers focused on your already sensitive clit was driving you near insanity. You weren’t sure if he was naturally good at what he did, or if he was trying extra hard to ensure you would come back to him. Either way, you were certain that when the morning came and you sobered up, you would still want him just the same. Days would pass, and you would be knocking on his door begging for a shred of what he gave you the first night you spent together. It was so good that you didn’t even care if he played the same game with every girl he picked up at the bar, because even if it was a reused version of his character, it was working. Every movement, every slight touch and sweet word that came from his mouth seemed special, like it was perfectly crafted just for your taste. You wanted to believe that even if he was a player and you were a recluse that denounced love, the moments shared between you was of importance.

“Do you want to cum for me, baby?” His words came out in a slight slur, telling you that he was having a hard time holding back his own orgasm. The night was so full of excitement that you were both surprised he held on for as long as he did. He was ready to fuck you as soon as he laid his eyes on you in the bar, and everything that came after was pure torture. He was struggling with not succumbing to the temptation, mostly because he was determined to give you even more than he already had. Disappointment was not a factor he was willing to accept.

“Yes, please.” You pleaded, noticing the movements of his fingers become more precise. His free hand rose to your neck, his fingers gently clasping around it to give you a chance to speak up against the action. You were so strung out from the pleasure that you were sure he could do whatever he wanted to you and you would never be able to find a complaint about it. When he was certain you were comfortable with his actions, his fingers tightened ever so slightly, beginning to restrict the blood flow to your head.

You took in a long breath, the burning in the pit of your stomach growing stronger by the second. You let your eyes close to focus on the pleasure, feeling your heartbeat pound in your ears. “Come on, angel.” His gentle encouragement was heavenly paired with the movement of his fingers and his hips. You were barely hanging on, and as his hand tightened around your neck again, all of the nerves in your body ignited with a fire that was impossible to contain.

“Jake,” you warned, but the words were weak and the rasp in your voice made it near impossible to hear. He was listening intently though, and he heard it as clear as day. It was nothing but motivation for him, driving him to keep going. As much as he was enjoying himself, he was most concerned with making you feel good. His pleasure came second to yours, and it was not up for debate.

Your head began to spin and your legs started to shake. The earth felt like it was turned upside down and it was spinning out of control. The orgasm tore through you in a violent fashion, but you couldn’t seem to find the energy to voice it to him. He slowly released his hold on your neck and instead moved his hand to the back of your head to hold you upright. You took in a long breath, unsure if you would ever be able to fill your lungs with the air you so desperately needed. “That’s it,” he muttered, slowing his hips slightly to allow you to recover “that’s my girl.” The words send another rush of pleasure through you, extending the climax even further.

You were exhausted, but he was far from done. As you regained some control over your body and mind, he ceased the movement of his fingers. “That was amazing.” You sighed, clearing your throat from the rasp that was still lingering.

“Yeah?” He crooned, a cocky smile on his lips. Once he was sure you were well and fully recovered, he withdrew and used his arm to slide you off of the table. When your feet hit the floor, he wasted no time turning you around and guiding your upper half down towards the table. “You think you can keep being good for me?” He asked, the tip of his cock already eagerly resting against your cunt. You let out a mutter of agreement, too tired to speak the words to him. “Just a little bit longer, sweet girl.” He promised, reaching up and twisting your hair into his fist.

With that, he pushed himself inside of you, the feeling amplified even further due to the ghost of your last orgasm. You were extremely sensitive, almost so much so that you questioned if you could keep going. Once he started a steady rhythm and you were pulled back into pleasure, you knew you could. You would do anything to give back the feeling that he was giving you. “Oh, god.” You groaned, the angle in which he was moving already driving you crazy. His hand tightened on your hair, pushing your head further down on the table. Your cheek was pressed against it, but he wasn’t holding you too harshly in fear of hurting you. The legs of the table were rocking with his movement, and as he sped, you feared that it might break under the pressure.

“You take it so good, angel.” He muttered, but he was no longer talking to you; he was so lost in the sex that he had no filter for his thoughts. Anything and everything that came to mind was ultimately spoken, mostly because he could not find the will to hold it back. “Such a good little whore.” You let out a shaky breath, the words settling deep in your stomach, blossoming into the beginning of another orgasm. His free hand raised and his palm came down on your ass with a loud smack. It sent a jolt of pain through you, making you jump under the touch. “Can you give me one more?” He asked, his hips stuttering as he tried his best to keep his composure.

“I don’t know,” you were honest with him, knowing that you would love to comply with every one of his wishes, but also knowing that even the thought of another orgasm was exhausting. Your body was tired, and so was your mind. He was pushing you as far as you could go, but you were more than happy to let him do it.

“I know you can, sweetheart. Just one more.” He said, but it was a plea hidden inside a powerful tone. He needed you to come again, just so he could ensure he gave you as much as he possibly could.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, your body doing all of the decision making for you. The knot in your stomach was tight, and your legs were locked in position to brace yourself for the intensity of the pleasure. The more he spoke to you, the more certain you felt about being unable to withstand another climax. Then again, you were sure he could convince you of anything if he was using the same sultry tone of voice.

“That’s it, baby.” He reinforced the idea, hoping you would submit to the feeling and stop worrying.

“I can’t,” you shook your head against his grip, knowing that you were long past your limit, even if your body was trying to convince you otherwise. The feeling of him inside you was so good that it was nearly painful, and your entire body was ablaze with overstimulation. He let his hand come down on your ass again, the sound echoing through the room and making home in the walls, permanently cementing the memory there. Neither of you would ever be able to look at the room the same way after such a filthy display was made in it.

“You can,” he pressed, not liking the disobedient attitude. He continued on with the steady movement of his hips, and before you knew it, you descended into a whole new type of pleasure below him. Your entire body seemed to give out from underneath you. Your legs were vibrating and tears were forming in your eyes as a slur of moans and curses fell from your lips. He slipped his arm underneath your hips, holding you up so there was no fear of you falling. Your walls were clenched around him, and you thought that the intensity alone would kill you. “Fuck, y/n.” He hissed, absolutely smitten by the state of you.

His own orgasm came harshly, sending him into a similar state of euphoria. His movements stuttered, and he was holding you up while trying not to topple over himself. Eventually, once you both seemed to relax, he slowed his hips to a near stop. He looked down at the sight, his jaw clenched as he fucked his release back into you. He was almost disappointed that the fun had come to an end, but he knew that you were much too tired to continue on. Carefully, he withdrew from you while continuing to hold you steady. “You okay, sweetheart?” The concern in his voice was astounding.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, your eyes refusing to open. You were so tired that you could have fallen asleep standing there, and your body was aching from the nights excitement.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He spoke softly, so different from the way he was speaking to you only moments before. He removed his hand from your hair and helped you off the table. When you were steady on your feet, he let his hand fall on your lower back in a gentle embrace, full of concern and care. He guided you to the bathroom where you both cleaned yourself and erased any evidence from the sinful experience you had engaged in. When you were finished, you returned to the kitchen and made a move to grab your dress. “What are you doing?” He chuckled, watching you with curiosity.

“Getting my clothes so I can go home.” You answered, but the sleepiness was making it hard to formulate the words.

“I don’t think so.” He shook his head, walking to meet you. He grabbed the dress from your hand and tossed it back on the floor before nudging you in the direction of his bedroom. “There’s no way I’m letting you get in a cab like that. I can take you home tomorrow.”

“I’m okay,” you tried to argue, but you were melting into the warm touch of his hands.

“You’re staying here, end of discussion.” He said, making sure you knew that he would not allow you to leave. “I’m not putting you in a taxi with a stranger while you’re this drunk and tired. Who knows what could happen.” He mumbled, the second part was more to himself than anything else. It almost seemed as if he was ashamed of caring so deeply.

“You’re a stranger, Jake.” You reminded him, but your eyes landed on the bed and you immediately felt a change of heart. It was screaming with coziness, the blankets and pillows more inviting than anything you’d ever seen before.

“Don’t think you can call me a stranger anymore, sweetheart.” He laughed, opening his dresser to grab you a t-shirt to sleep in. He tossed it on the bed so you could grab it, which you did while uttering a small thank you. You slipped it over your head, the smell of his cologne was overwhelming and oddly comforting. You pulled back the comforter and slid into the bed, your eyes immediately closing in bliss. “I’ll be on the couch if you need me.” He said, the sound causing you to crack an eye open in surprise.

“What?” You asked, baffled at his statement. “No, you can… I mean, if you want to… I don’t think it’s fair if I get the bed and you get the couch.” Your words came out in a jumbled mess, and your thoughts were just the same. “I can stay on the couch, or we can both… yeah.” You felt your cheeks heat with embarrassment. You weren’t sure if it was because you were drunk or if it was because he was hot, but you were flustered and apparently, no good at hiding it.

“You’re sure you’re with me being in bed, too?” He didn’t speak a word about your nervous rambling. He didn’t want to embarrass you further, and in truth, he didn’t really care. He was only concerned about your comfort.

“Yeah.” You assured him. “Like you said, not really strangers anymore.” You laughed.

“That’s true.” He nodded, slipping on a pair of boxers and climbing under the covers, too. Instinctively, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into him.

“Pushing it.” You said, but humour was clear in your tone.

“Shut up and go to sleep.” He laughed as you relaxed against him.

And sleep you did, carelessly and peacefully, unknowing and uncaring about the world of trouble you had created in just one small lapse of judgement. The morning would come and your senses would return, but it was far too late to stop the situation from descending into the chaos you were so desperate to avoid. His web was spun, and you were caught, even if neither of you were aware of the mistakes you had made that inevitably landed you there. The first deadly sin was committed, soon to be followed by six more, and not even a confession nor repenting could save you from your own wrongdoings.

TAGLIST: @sacredjake @profitofthedune @thewritingbeforesunrise @sacredthethreadgvf @klarxtr @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @freefallthoughts @jaketlove @clairesjointshurt @ageofbajabule @dannys-dream @earthgrlsreasy @starshine-gvf @brujamagik

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