#ridin and rollin | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

twola · 1 year

Text

Seven Deadly Sins - V

PAIRING: low to mid honor Arthur Morgan x Fem!reader

Because if one thing is true, it is that Arthur Morgan is a sinner. Pure, organic, non-GMO smut. A continuing series.

Warnings: Smut, Violence, Low to Medium Honor Arthur (and all that entails)

Wrath: strong vengeful anger or indignation, retributory punishment for an offense or a crime.

➵ AO3 Link

➵ Previous | ➵ Next | ➵ Fic Masterlist

“The reason you need me on this job is…?”

Arthur chuckles, a deep rumbling laugh through his chest. “Always good to have sticky fingers like yours when robbin’ a homestead.”

You roll your eyes, leaning over and rubbing the horse’s neck as the mare slowly walks down the trail. He’s in a better mood after leaving the stifling heat of the swamps near Shady Belle - and getting out of Lemoyne altogether. Things had settled down from run-ins with Angelo Bronte and jobs in Saint Denis - and Arthur had come to you with a homestead he wanted to hit up in the Heartlands - far away from everything the gang was mired in fetid and humid south Lemoyne.

“And the reason you’ve got me ridin’ like this?”

Ah, now that is the better question. You sit astride the saddle, atop his mare, settled in tightly against him, one of his large hands splayed across your belly. Your hips press against his as the two of you sway with the movement of the horse.

“Want you to be comfortable, of course.” He replies, matter-of-factly. His other hand winds tightly around the reins.

“Course.” You laugh, leaning back against him comfortably, stealing a bit of shade that is cast by his worn leather hat.

You’d be just as comfortable sitting on the horse’s rump behind him, but by the way that his fingers clench and rub soft circles on your stomach through the fabric of your skirts, you don’t think he’d approve.

“So what’s the plan for this one, Mister Morgan? Rollin’ in with guns blazing? Distracting the menfolk with my womanly charm?” You ask playfully, knowing what exactly would rib the man into annoyance.

“Mm, little more simple. Supposed to be empty, owners on a holiday.” He replies, nudging the horse a little faster with a jolt from his spur.

“Oh… y’really didn’t need me for that.” You trail off, squinting into the distance. The late afternoon sun reflects off the mountains in the distance, far off in Ambarino.

“Sure I do, need ya for this-” His hand slowly moves down from your soft belly to cup at the jointure of your thighs. Through the layers of your skirts and bloomers, he presses against your folds, moving his fingers in slow circles.

“ What -” you squeak in surprise, “are y’doin?”

“Just mindin’ the time. A while yet’ fore we reach Valentine.” Arthur states as if he isn’t digging through cotton to touch you.

You buck involuntarily as his finger presses the seam of your bloomers against your clit. Your hand flies back and squeezes his thigh, right above his knee as you clench your teeth. He rubs his fingers faster, knowing he’s found that spot. You gasp, your head falling back against him as you grip the pommel of the saddle for dear life.

“Y’good there, sweetheart?”

“ Stop .” You grit out.

He does, drawing his hand away from your core, and a flash of worry shoots through him.

It’s assuaged quite quickly when you press backward into him, with a roll of your hips, your rear grinds against his already hard cock.

A groan rumbles from his chest before he can try and stop it. You respond with a sweet, needy sound of your own and roll your hips into his again. His hand presses against you once again. He digs through the layers of fabric to rub at your core shamelessly.

“ Oh… ” you whine in the most beautiful sigh he’s ever heard. He could drown in the dripping sweetness from your mouth.

“Mmm… stop the horse and fuck me.”

Oh, what an order. What a request. He’d gladly shackle himself at your feet to be able to serve out anything that falls from your lips.

He’s yanking the reins hard and swings himself from the saddle and is pulling you down in one fluid motion. Stumbling, falling, you pull his lips down to yours and press your hand against the bulge in his trousers. He grunts as he rights you, and you step back from him with that look in your eye, that look that gets him every time.

Christ , he’s stopped the horse in the middle of the goddamn road, in the rolling hills of the Heartlands, high above Flat Iron Lake. By some work of serendipity, just off the worn trail is a large outcropping of rock, which you giggle and back up out of his embrace toward. Moving around to the other side of the stone, you beckon him closer with a curl of your finger. Seems that now you’ve caught the playful mood as well.

You lay down in the soft prairie grasses of the Heartlands, barely shielded from the road by the rocks as you draw your skirts up your thighs. Your creamy stockings give way to bare skin above your knees.

Arthur’s gun belt clatters to the ground. He’s starting to love the noise it makes when it does so.

His suspenders hang loosely at his hips as he sinks to his knees between your legs. He unbuttons his pants as you raise your hips to slide your bloomers down, revealing your cunt as your knees fall open, the glistening, dewy folds of your core on display for him.

Arthur curses under his breath as he tosses his hat to the ground before shoving his pants down his thighs. He splays his body over you, settling himself between your hips.

You giggle, “Hopefully the next traveler on the road doesn’t get a full view of your pale ass.”

“Shaddup, you little minx ,” he leans further and nips at your bottom lip playfully, “fore I strip you naked and fuck you in the middle of the damn road.”

“Mister Morgan. ” You smile, and it’s like he’s been shot in the chest, “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

He groans as he presses his cock between your folds and slowly sinks in, loving the first clutch, the tightness of your body when he parts you for the first time. The sweet moan you let out as your hands grab at his shirt. The playful rubbing he had started this all with has made you more than wet enough to take him easily.

His curls tangle with yours as pubic bones meet. He looks down at his pelvis, cock completely hidden from view, and swears aloud in pleasure.

“Mm, Arthur.”

You’re going to kill him. It’ll be a sweet death, one he’s entirely undeserving of. He deserves to be hung or catch a bullet between the eyes. For all the things he’s done, for all the things he’s yet to do, he is completely unworthy of a death where he would find himself in your arms.

And yet…

He’s found himself longing . Not since his ill-fated relationship with Mary Gillis fell apart has he wanted more than to just sate his desires. Even then, he wasn’t one heading to the brothel in every cowtown the gang stopped in. This was supposed to be just one of those things.

Well, this was supposed to be one of those things. A simple, transactional relationship. Now he’s dreaming of keeping you in his bed for more than just sex.

A gasp from your throat pulls him from his wandering thoughts as his pelvis rolls into yours. He knows, now, after many times, that little gasp of yours is a cry for more. More speed, more force, more movement… more of everything he can give you.

His hips roll desperately as he covers your lips with his own, pressing his tongue into your mouth. Only when he has to gasp for air does he move back from you.

“ D-deeper.” You whine, pulling hard on the fabric of his jacket. The heel of your boot digs into his lower back as you try to get him to push in further.

“ Shit , girl.” Arthur’s hand presses the back of your thigh to his shoulder. The yaw of your legs widens and you let out a shriek as he throws his weight into his hips and parts you in a way he hasn’t before, reaching deep within your core.

The cry you give comes from your chest, bursting up your throat, a wanton sound of pure pleasure as Arthur braces his knees and leans further over you, tilting your hips back as he thrusts - the angle and your leg thrown high over his shoulder, you’re so loud and couldn’t even bear to be any quieter.

Of course, that goes straight to his throbbing cock as he slides it in and out of your drenched cunt. He feels the tightening in his guts, the telltale sign that he’s going to come imminently.

“Where-”

“Inside, god, please , Arthur, come inside me-” you gasp, tears collecting at the edges of your eyes, “ ‘m gonna - I’ll come too-”

Well, that was all the convincing he needed. The stupidity of it, the irresponsibility, it’s all forgotten as those words escape you breathlessly. It only takes him three more sloppy strokes as he throws his head back and groans loudly, his arms locking in a straight line as his hips drive into yours for a final time.

Arthur rumbles out the broken syllables of your name as he comes. You whine in response, a high-keening wail as you dig your fingers into his shoulders, clenching hard around his already pulsing cock. Your leg slips down from his shoulder, shaking with exertion.

He collapses over you, draping himself over your torso as he pants into your ear. He has the energy, at the very least, to weave his fingers through your hair, which has escaped its bindings.

Your hands move from his shoulder, fingers sweeping up his neck. One hand nestles on the back of his head, fingers carding through his honeyed hair. He’s learned that’s one of your favorite things to do, and he’s certainly not complaining. The other trails down his jaw, your pointer finger pushing gently for him to raise his head.

He follows your unspoken request, unable to even think of saying no to you. You look at him, your mouth quirking into a small smile as your hand cups his cheek, skin soft over his short beard. With the smallest of motions, your fingers pull slightly as your gaze falls to his lips.

He happily acquiesces. Your lips are so soft against his own, and as you open your mouth to his, the softest sigh flows from your chest into him.

God, he could die right now. Spent and softening, buried deep within your cunt, none of the jarring coldness of jerkily removing himself from your warmth. Draped over your form with your legs still looped over his hips, not allowing him to move.

A blooming warmth of affection burns in his chest, knowing you want him there just as much as he wants to be there. God, he’s realizing just how invested he is in this. Idiot. This was supposed to be simple. Uncomplicated. Look at him, Arthur Morgan , thousands of dollars on his head and so much blood on his hands, brought to heel by your soft lips and warm cunt.

You press your forehead against his, and he pulls back from your lips.

“We should make camp, it’ll be dark ‘fore we know it.” You whisper. He nods, pushing himself up off of your form and pulling his hips back from yours, internally cursing as his cock slips from the sweet cradle of your hips. He sits up on his knees, pulling his pants back up over his hips.

You recline on your elbows, your legs still spread around him. In the moments before you scoot backward to pull your skirts down to hide your legs, he stares at your cunt, glistening and wet. You shift slightly and a milky pearl of his spend trails down your folds before he loses sight of it when your skirts cover your skin.

Jesus Christ.

“C’mon there, cowboy. You gonna set up camp or do I have to do everything?” You laugh as you stand up, brushing the dust and dirt from your skirt.

He swats at your rear as you go by, and you stick your tongue out at him as you move back toward the horse.

The tent is up in a few minutes, and you sit on your knees making room for a fire, “What did you bring to eat?”

“Nothin’ great,” he shrugs, mentally kicking himself for his lack of preparation.

“Mm - d’ya think you have it in you to grab something? Maybe a rabbit? There should be plenty of them out here.” You look up at him with a pleasing smile on your face.

“Why, of course, Princess. This here’s a to-order kitchen.” Arthur drawls sarcastically, with a hint of a laugh as he places his hat back on his head. Winding his gun belt back around his hips, a crooked grin remains on his face.

“Shut up,” you yell, chucking a piece of kindling at him. He swats it away easily, chuckling as he moves back toward his horse, “One jackrabbit, for my lady’s delicate appetite.”

“You better not blow it to bits!” You call out to him as he gets up on his saddle and spurs his horse out into the fields.

It’s not but a few miles ride before he is able to catch sight of one in the waning daylight. He’s able to whip out his game rifle and kill it in two shots, blaming the first miss on the horse’s jittering, of course. He skins the jackrabbit quickly and ties its carcass to his horse’s saddle.

Arthur knows better than this. He’s goddamn close to forty years old. He should not be getting this excited to get back to the tent. But his cock is ever the immature teenage boy that he once was, swelling against his pants as he thinks of how many times he is going to have you tonight, alone, in a tent, far away from camp.

No interruptions.

And he would be lying to himself; the one thing he tries not to do, that he would not like to wake up with you tucked in at his side. Maybe to wake you up with a soft touch to your folds, a gentle squeeze of your breast - to slowly work you into a begging mess before sinking himself into your heat. To hear your voice sweetly gasp his name, hoarse with sleep.

His cock is completely hard at this point. It was hopeless to fight it, as he urges his horse to canter back to the campsite some miles away.

The smoke from the fire you’ve managed to make marks his destination over the rise of the next hill. He clicks his tongue and digs his spurs into the horse’s side to gallop up the rise. He reaches the top, and his eyebrows quirk as he realizes that he is not at the campsite. The smoke billowing up into the evening sky was much larger than a campfire should be. The campsite was still several lengths away, and as he squints against the darkness, he curses and pushes his horse into a gallop.

There’s movement in the distance. More than there should be. He unholsters his revolver from his belt as he approaches the campsite. Your scream echoes in his ear, he knew, even though it was far off, he knew it was you.

By the time he reaches the fire, he can only watch as you are thrown on the back of a horse, hogtied and gagged, screaming against the fabric smothering your mouth, a dark fear in your eyes as your captors flee north along the road, leaving Arthur behind fending for himself against two of their compatriots.

Hell hath no fury. Not like Arthur Morgan. Not when something of his is taken from him.

Two men move to draw weapons as Arthur swings himself off of his horse with his revolver pulled. He fires two quick rounds, hitting one of the bandits in the shoulder and sufficiently distracting the other one enough to stumble. The man he hit fell to the ground, his revolver skittering along the dirt.

The outlaw moves ahead quickly, slamming into the upright bandit and tackling him to the ground. He slams his revolver across the man’s face. He does it again. And again. And again. Blood gushes from his nose and mouth as his teeth get knocked loose. Arthur just keeps hitting him, far beyond when his head is a bloody pulp. The man is dead for several moments by the time he stops.

Blood covers his blue denim shirt and brown leather jacket, speckled on his face and up his arms like he’s skinned a wolf.

The second man regains some semblance of consciousness and tries to stumble away; he doesn’t get more than a few steps before Arthur points his revolver and blows the man’s knee out. He screams in pain and hits the ground, clutching at his leg as it hemorrhages all over the dry prairie ground. The man is already soaked in blood from the hole in his shoulder.

Arthur stoops down next to the man on one knee, voice low and dangerous.

“Tell me where they’re taking her or you’ll be wishin’ I did the kind thing and killed you straight away.”

“S-Six P-p-point.” The man stutters, tears of pain bursting from his eyes. Arthur presses down on his twisted and bloody knee with his boot, causing the man to howl for mercy.

Of course, these were fucking O’Driscolls . He should have burned that damn cabin down.

Arthur is not feeling merciful. With the speed of a practiced hand and absolutely no reservations whatsoever, he unsheathes his hunting knife and drags it across the man’s throat. After a few seconds, his bellyaching ends as he bleeds out in the dirt.

He wipes the blood off of the blade of his knife on the dead man’s shirt before resheathing it.

The tent that he had set up, along with your bundle of personal items burns as he gives one last look at the campsite. Arthur’s teeth grind as fury pumps through his veins. He stalks toward his horse as the heat of the fire burns away any comfort of the night.

Arthur was on the warpath. Woe be to those who took you from him.

Arthur Morgan, at his base instinct, was a simple man. He hurt men, killed them, stole from them, and lived a life of debauchery and sin for his own gain. He could be very indiscriminate with violence.

But this, this was personal.

Fucking O’Driscolls took his woman. If a hair on your head was out of place, he would skin Colm O’Driscoll himself.

His mare has worked up a lather on her coat as he runs her north toward Cumberland. He presses her onward, and tries to stave off the gnawing feeling in his gut - the fear trying to creep in underneath his rage - that he may find you in a different shape than he left you. That those grimy sons of bitches hurt you in any way, put their hands on you - take what belongs to him. Or worst of all, he storms into that damned cabin and finds your lifeless body.

Arthur makes it to the north of Cumberland far faster than a normal man would. He hitches his poor horse to a tree and feeds her an apple while he pulls out his shotgun and rifle from his saddle holster and heaves them over his shoulder. He draws his revolver and chambers three more bullets in it before placing it back in his belt.

With practiced speed and silence, he moves around the trees, stopping at different vantage points as he approaches the cabin. Fortunately, it looked like there were far fewer men here the last time he stormed through. He only counts two outside, the camp relegated to a small campfire in front of the cabin. A soft light glows from the windows, denoting the presence of someone inside.

He lets down the rifle from his shoulder. Breathing out heavily through his nose, he racks the bolt and takes aim at one of the men sitting around the fire. His finger moves to the trigger - done so many times before, and pulls , anticipating the recoil from the rifle and quickly throwing it over his shoulder again as he grabs his shotgun. The bullet found its mark, of course , and the O’Driscoll flew backwards in a gush of blood. His comrade jumps to his feet, looking around, and yells, pulling a pistol from his belt. Arthur moves around the campfire, silent as a hawk, and can approach the man from behind and slam the butt of the gun into his back, causing him to drop his gun and sprawl out on the ground. The man is at least able to turn himself over to his back before Arthur looms over him.

“Where the hell is she?” Arthur snarls, the barrel of his shotgun pressing hard against the man’s chest.

The O’Driscoll, scared shitless, stumbles over words as his eyes bulge with fear.

“I’mma give you one chance to tell me where she is.” He threatens, racking the pump of the gun loudly.

“In-inside, there, swear it. She’s in there.” The man sputters, pointing toward the door of the cabin.

Arthur scowls, pulling the barrel back from the man’s chest. He pushes himself to his elbows, eyeing the door, thinking to run. The barrel shifts upward to the man’s forehead and in an instant, Arthur pulls the trigger. The shotgun roars and the O’Driscoll’s head explodes in a burst of blood and brain matter all over the porch of the cabin.

Arthur kicks down the door of the decrepit cabin with the heel of his boot, the wood splintering as he foists his shotgun forward, barrels blazing as he pumps a round into the man that was moving to the door. The man’s chest bursts in blood as he slams back against the table in the middle of the cabin and slides to the floor.

You scream behind a gag at the noise, and Arthur paces further back into the cabin and finds you bound on the wooden floor, your eyes wide and fearful after hearing the multiple shotgun blasts over the last several minutes.

He leans the shotgun against the fireplace and unsheathes his large hunting knife, moving toward your form quickly. Kneeling on the floor on one knee, he cuts the gag at your cheek and then moves to the rope wound around your wrists and ankles. You gasp large breaths of air when the gag is removed, your eyes bloodshot and wet.

“They touch you?”

You don’t reply, hot tears streaming down your face, your hurried, shallow breaths starting to slow.

Arthur sneers, “Tell me, I’ll geld every single one.”

Silence.

He grabs your chin to force you to look up at him, his cold, angry eyes demanding answers, “ Tell me , woman.”

“That all you’re concerned about? That no other man can say they’ve had me?” You snap at him, eyes red-rimmed and overflowing with tears.

Arthur glares, but his brows falter the slightest bit as you breathe heavily, his hand still on your chin.

“No, Arthur, you’ll be happy to know that my cunt is still yours to do with what you please.”

Blood trickles down your temple to cover his fingertips.

He lets go of your chin, and you turn away from him with a sharp crane of your neck. You scoot backward on the floor, away from him, and gather your knees into your chest, looping your arms around them to make yourself small.

“That’s not… that’s not what I meant….” He nearly whispers, knowing that in his possessive rage, that is exactly what he meant. He’s caught looking down at you, his hand still in the air, smeared with your blood, hesitating to reach at you again.

“Yes, it was. Don’t worry, Arthur. My virtue remains untouched by anyone other than you .” Venom drips from your voice as you bury your head into your arms, refusing to look at him any further.

The old, dirty floorboards creak as Arthur sits down upon it, and after a moment’s hesitation, he pulls you closer to him, gathering your body against his and wrapping both of his arms around you, tucking your head in the crook of his neck.

Even as angry as you are, with a shuddering breath, you lean into his embrace. Your arms slowly unlace from around your knees and clutch at his shirt, and you’re sure you’re dirtying it with the sticky blood drying on your hands.

One of his hands threads into your unbound, wild hair, cradling the back of your head with a gentleness you didn’t know the man possessed.

“I didn’t… didn’t know what I’d find when I come up here… I was half expectin’ to find you dead.” He whispers, his voice low and gravelly, but missing the earlier malice, “Don’t think I’d know what to do with myself if you was gone.”

You snort, about to tell him something snide about finding another hole to shove his cock into, but before you’re able to pipe up, he cuts you off.

“I reckon I’m not the best at this, but… this ain’t just bout the…” he stumbles over his words, trailing off.

“Ain’t about how you’re always thinkin’ with your cock with me?” You were able to slide the retort in this time.

“ Christ , woman, I’m tryin’ here,” he interjects, exasperated.

You pull away from him, and he lets his embrace around you loosen. You wipe your temple with the back of your hand and grimace as your skin is stained with tacky blood.

Silence settles between you. Arthur lets loose a bated breath.

“C’mon. Forget the job. Let’s get somewhere and settle down for the night.”

You allow it. Just as you allow him to loop his arm under your knees and lift you into his strong hold.

He takes you away from this place, carrying you high in his arms so as not to touch all of the blood and brain matter pooling on the floor.

Not to be a part of the carnage he unleashed.

#seven deadly sins #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fandom #red dead fandom #red dead fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #ao3 #rdr2 smut #red dead redemption fanfiction #twolafic

145 notes · View notes

zh0nggucc1 · 3 months

Text

Ridin and Rollin

Paring: Lee Jeno x Fem!reader

Word count: 2k

Content: Jeno and Y/N have a severe dislike for each other and a strong sexual tension. While trying to irritate Y/N, riding on his bike, Jeno gets injured and Y/N hesitantly helps him, taking him back to his apartment to bandage him up.

Warning‼️: NSFW, injury, bike accident, description of blood, cunnilingus, sex, explicit language, mentioning of female genitalia, mentioning of male genitalia, switch(leaning sub)!reader, switch(leaning dom)!Jeno, praise(receiving), riding.

She arched her back, fastening her pace as ecstasy and adrenaline washed over her. She suddenly bucked her hips up, the front wheels of her bike coming up with her, to do a wheelie.

She revved her engine, flaunting the beauty of the lump of navy blue metal below her.

The night was young, so young hints of yellow, red and orange still remained scattered, mesmerisingly, throughout the sky.

The cotton candy clouds stood proudly, knowing there was an audience of humans that envied its beauty.

The sound of revving echoed behind her. Instantly knowing who it was, she rolled her eyes in annoyance and sped up holding a stern expression.

She felt the vibrations of the revving from behind her getting closer. She cursed under her breath, clenching her teeth.

Soon enough the neon green bike caught up, a little too close for comfort to the side of her precious bike.

a sharp corner was coming up and the neon bike was nearing closer and closer, dangerously closer.

“FUCK OFF LEE JENO!” She yelled, her blood boiling from just having to mention his name.

He smirked through his helmet, deliberately getting closer to anger her even more.

Being too focused on her temper, he didn’t even notice the sharp turn. Her bike swerved, quickly, scratching it by knocking him off of his.

The sound of metal scratching caused her to come to a halt. She hopped off of her bike, observing the damage. “For fucks sake..” she muttered, approaching the injured man, whose bike looked worse than him.

She straddled him lifting his helmet off with force. His face was untouched, for now.

“You little bitch! You scratched my bike!” She slapped him across the cheek. He winced at the stinging sensation.

“Is that all you got? a silly little bitch sla-“ Before he could finish, her knuckles met his nose, resulting in a familiar crimson liquid gushing out.

“Shit!” He cursed, holding his nose trying to prevent the blood from oozing out. She smirked, satisfied with her work. “Not so much of a silly little bitch slap anymore is it?”

She got up, hopping back onto her bike. “So you’re just going to leave me after doing that?!” He raised his voice. She scoffed “Well duh, What does it look like?”

“Come on, pretty please? just let me ride on the back of your bike, my bike is clearly fucked and so am I by the looks of things, i’m asking you as a friend, not as an oppone-“ She cut him off.

“Gosh you talk way too much, if I let you get on will you shut the fuck up.” He nodded, vigorously. She sighed. “Fine.”

He limped over to her bike, His leg clearly injured. He hopped on, wrapping his arms securely around her waist.

She gulped, feeling how close he was to her. His crotch was touching her bottom. This wasn’t supposed to feel inappropriate at all but to her it felt like it. There was too much sexual tension.

“Are you going to start riding or not?” He spoke, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. She began to move the bike, at last, snapping out of her, not so appropriate daydream.

She sped through the streets, passing the limit, using the speed to distract herself from the inappropriate thoughts, but nothing could erase them completely.

Little did she know the same thing was on his mind and had been for a very long time. He tried so hard not to think such unholy thoughts while her ass was forced against his almost erect cock.

He was trying so hard to hide it but how could he when her ass was pressed against it.

“Can we stop at my apartment? it’s just over there, I need to get my first aid kit.”

“Sure whatever.” She said focusing on the road.

Soon enough, she had reached the apartment complex. She stopped outside.

“You going or what?” She asked, with attitude. “Can you help me? I hurt my leg.” She sighed and got off her bike.

He put his arm over her shoulder resting on her as she struggled to help him walk into the apartment complex.

“You’re so heavy what the fuck?” She said, helping him into the elevator. “It’s muscle.” She rolled her eyes. “yeah yeah whatever.”

They reached his apartment and he put the key into his door, twisting it open. She helped him walk through the door, noticing how clean and luxurious his apartment was. He must’ve robbed a bank for that. There was even a beautiful view of the city. That must’ve been expensive.

She brought him to the sink so he could wash the dried blood from his nose.

After that, sat himself on the counter. “Can you grab the first aid kid from that drawer?” He pointed at the correct drawer and she opened it taking out the kit.

He lifted up the great cargos he was wearing, revealing an extremely bruised knee. “Be a dear and bandage it up for me?” He smiled, innocently.

She sighed. “For fucks sake fine but you owe me, got it?” He nodded.

she took out a long white bandage, kneeling in front of him. In a different context this would sound very unholy. She was almost face to face with his crotch, causing her cheeks to redden. She tried to ignore it, delicately wrapping the bandage around his knee. It looked like she knew what she was doing.

He was flustered, seeing her kneel down in front of him. All he could think of was how beautiful her lips would look wrapped around his dick. A bulge was growing in his pants.

She noticed it but she acted like she didn’t. she gulped, the sexual tension quickly building up.

She finished wrapping the bandage around his knee and got back up. “There, all done, we can go now.” She said, making her way to the door.

Before she could go any further, she felt a tight grasp around her wrist, halting her movement.

He pulled her back, grabbing her hips so she could stand in between his legs.

He grabbed her by the top of her shirt, smashing his lips against hers. In shock, she stood frozen. Eventually she began to move her lips in sync with his, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He slid himself off of the counter, his erection poking her lower stomach through his cargos.

He led her to the bedroom, not breaking away from the kiss. she pushed him down onto the bed, straddling him. She was just as needy as he was.

She rolled her hips against his clothed erection, letting out heavy breaths into the kiss as he let out small groans.

He switched their places, him now on top. He left gentle yet sloppy kisses down from her lips to her collar bones. “Let me know if you want me to stop.” He said. She nodded in reply. He then pulled her shirt off, her bra, hiding her breasts. He swiftly in clipped her bra, kissing down to her breast. He gently sucked her nipples, causing her to squirm and whimper under him. He went back to kissing her neck, sucking onto the skin, determined to leave a trail of purple mark.

Happy with his work of art, he moved down to her stomach, leaving delicate pecks. He took her sweatpants off, revealing a lacy thong. His eyes darkened in hunger as his mouth watered, anticipating his meal.

He pulled off her panties with his teeth. He then spat on her wet womanhood, making it easier for him to slide his long tongue through her folds. She wrapped her thighs around his head, keeping him in place.

He rapidly licked her clitoris, causing her to let out heavy breaths. She arched her back, her face contorting in pleasure. He stuck his tongue through her entrance, using his fingers to rub her clit.

“Fuck~” She moaned out, tightly gripping her bottom lip with her teeth.

He smirked against her, happy with the reaction he was getting. He moved his tongue in and out of her at a faster pace, his fingers rubbing her sensitive spot also moving faster.

He was good at what he was doing, too good. In fact, good would be an understatement.

Beads of sweat began to drip from her forehead and this was just the start.

He gave her womanhood one last gentle kiss before bringing himself back up to meet her other lips. He began to unbutton his cargos, pulling them down to his ankles.

He also threw his shirt over his head, revealing his perfectly toned abs with scars all over them, he was a criminal of course so it was expected.

She stared in awe at his body, wanting to devour it immediately.

She hastily switched them around, sitting on his clothed erection, it felt huge. She pulled his boxers down, his hard cock immediately bouncing out onto his stomach. As expected, it was huge with veins pulsing all the way up to the tip, where precum oozed out. It was not only long, but it was girthy too. It would definitely take some getting used to. She couldn’t even fully wrap her hand around it, it was that girthy.

She felt fearful yet anticipated at the same time. She knew she would be left bedridden the second he pulled out but she was so desperate to have him inside of her already.

“Like what you see, babe?” He said, snapping her out of her thoughts. She looked away, her cheeks reddening.

“If you like the way it looks now, then u would love the way it would look inside of you.” He smirked and with with she smashed her lips against his, tracing her fingers over his scars.

While kissing her, he grabbed an XL condom from his dresser, breaking away from the kiss, he used his teeth to rip open the packet, sliding the condom onto his length. He threw the packet in the bin, beside his bed, reconnecting their lips.

He bit her bottom lip, sliding his tongue into her mouth, hungrily. Their tongues clashed together at war.

Soon enough, she began to lower herself onto his length, sliding the tip in. She felt a breathy moan leave her lips, into the kiss, as she did so. She slid herself further and further onto him until he was fully inside of her. He let out a deep groan, feeling her tightness around his cock.

When she finally adjusted, she began to slowly move up and down, letting out ungodly sounds. The sounds leaving his mouth weren’t any better. He sounded like an angel but the reasons for those sounds weren’t holy.

She began to speed up, bouncing up and down on his length, loud moans passing through her lips.

“Fuck, you look so good bouncing on my dick like that~” He groaned, gripping her ass so hard it would probably leave marks.

He moved his hands to her hips, guiding her as she continued to roll her hips.

He switched them over, now it was him on top. He threw her legs over his head, ramming into her like she was the last human on Earth. He let out growls, hunger and lust consuming him.

The sound of skin clapping, moans and groans filled the room. The neighbours could probably hear it.

“You take me so well, baby~” He moaned out, his eyes rolling back. He felt her clench around him, knowing she was close.

“Cum for me, baby~” He spoke, thrusting a few more times until she creamed. The clenching causing him to release shortly after.

He pulled out, sliding the condom off, tying it and throwing it in the trash.

He plopped himself beside her, breathing heavily.

“I can’t believe we just did that.” She said, processing it.

“We should do it again sometime.” He flirted, looking her in the eyes, laying on his side.

“I don’t think so, pretty boy.”

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed my first post, please give me your opinions! criticism is okay!! and if you have any requests I would love to take them, thank you for reading!!

47 notes · View notes

msbigredmachine · 8 months

Text

TARGETS - 30 - Finishing Touches

Roman Reigns is an agent in the secret organization The Authority and one of the world’s deadliest assassins. When he crosses paths with a mysterious woman during an assignment, he makes a life-changing decision that switches his role from the hunter to the hunted. (AU Espionage Story)

TARGETS MASTERLIST

-------------------

Nine days had gone by since Jasmine and Roman left Rose’s house. Eleven days since Jasmine was tortured and Roman was shot in the shoulder by Baron Corbin. Somehow, they survived and Corbin did not. That had to mean something, that as long as they were alive and breathing, they still had a fighting chance. But though their wounds were healing, neither was sure they would ever be at a hundred percent again.

Jasmine's ordeal had taken a toll on her psyche. The first night, she'd woken up in a cold sweat, the feel of Baron's grimy hands on her still as suffocating now as it was then, the smell of her burning flesh entrapped in her nostrils. The second night, she had almost broken Roman's nose as he tried to shake her awake from her nightmare. Shaken and embarrassed, it took some convincing to the Samoan that she would be okay. As traumatic as it was for her and as harsh as it sounded, Jasmine knew she had to brush it off and concentrate on putting their plan to action. All of F.L.O.R.A. and the Authority were looking for them now, and they had missed the deadline for their Jamaica rendezvous with Rollins and Ambrose thanks to Corbin. The two men were now off the grid, most likely for their own safety. Roman did not blame them. The couple kept on the move, not staying at one particular place for too long, and they continued to strategize and stay in shape as best as they could, given the circumstances.

As the days got closer and closer to executing their final plan, Roman decided to treat his girlfriend to something nice. Since they couldn’t travel to any exotic destination at the moment, he brandished his considerable skills and was able to scam his way into obtaining a nice swanky suite for two days at the W Hotel, the very same hotel chain where they first spent an incredible night together all those months ago. It was a pleasant contrast to the dingy accommodation they had been inhabiting for the past week, and the huge smile on Jasmine’s face as she plopped down onto the soft, clean white sheets of the king bed like a little girl was the perfect reward for him.

Biting into a croissant from the vast breakfast tray from room service, Jasmine perused the contents of the carry-on Rose had given her. It contained two brand new passports; one for herself, named "Ameera Candice Johnson", and the other for her "husband" Roman, under the name "Afa Jonathan Johnson". She calculated a hundred thousand dollars in cash in four different currencies. Rose would have provided more, but F.L.O.R.A. had monitored each of their operatives' accounts ever since Jasmine turned rogue, to ensure that none of them were financing her. Jasmine's own accounts and credit cards had long since been frozen. The money was adequate for now, but she and Roman were going to need much more than this if they planned on disappearing forever.

And she knew just where they were going to get it.

She heard the bathroom door open, and then a whooshing sound from behind her. Instinctively, she twisted her upper body around, catching the incoming missile expertly with her right hand. She glanced down at the tube of toothpaste and rolled her eyes. "Really, Reigns?"

Her boyfriend stood by the bathroom door, a white towel hanging low on his hips. "Just testing your reflexes, my beautiful Nubian rose," he informed her.

"My reflexes are just fine, my handsome Samoan stallion."

Roman smirked. "Stallion, huh? Cuz you love ridin’ me?"

"Oh my god, don't start." She shook her head with a smile, getting up and approaching him. Giving his chest an affectionate pat, she took off her clothes, stepped into the walk-in shower and turned on the hot water.

The Plexiglas quickly grew foggy from the hot water, but Roman could still see the curvaceous outline of her silhouette. His breathing grew heavier as he watched her spread the lather over her naked body with her hands. He was aroused in seconds. He'd just showered but he didn't mind going back in for another. Quickly discarding his towel, he walked into the shower and shut the glass door behind him.

Standing behind her, his hands roamed her jagged skin, carefully tracing the scars Corbin had left all over her beautiful body. "Fuckin' piece of shit," he growled, "I should find him, wake his dead ass up and put another bullet in his head."

Jasmine found herself chuckling at that. "Down, boy. It's getting better, thanks to Rose’s lotion."

"You're still not sleeping well, though." Roman's tone was quiet but pointed, feeling her bristle at his words. "Baby girl, I know Corbin did a number on you..."

"Don't worry about me, my love. I'll be fine," Jasmine promised, turning her head to meet his eyes. "Let's just focus on tomorrow, and hope we live through it."

"We will. We have a good plan. A brilliant one, even."

"You're very confident," she smirked.

"I am. Because we're good. Very good. We make a great team, Jasmine."

Jasmine smiled. "We do. It’s like we’ve known each other forever."

“Like soulmates?” asked Roman.

There was something about that word, just the mere utterance of it, that seemed to unlock something, opening another chapter in their romance. Jasmine looked deep into Roman’s eyes and saw everything she needed to know.

“Just like soulmates,” she agreed with a soft smile. She felt his thumbs gently massage the base of her neck, and gradually relaxed as he methodically worked the tension out of her neck, shoulders and upper back. She closed her eyes, a soft contented sigh escaping her when Roman kissed the scar on her shoulder blade. He inched closer, his chest flush against her back, his hands slipping around to rest against the flat plane of her abdomen.

Jasmine trailed her hands along the contours of his muscular forearms, her fingers intertwining with his. With a soft moan, Roman dipped his head, his lips meeting the curve of her neck, his breath warm against her skin. His caresses soon found her breasts, and as he massaged them and rolled her nipples between his fingers, that familiar erotic feeling surged up inside them; the one that pushed out all other thoughts and focused on no one else but each other.

“I love you,” whispered Jasmine.

“I love you too, baby,” Roman replied, capturing her mouth with his when she lifted her head, his tongue sliding into her mouth to tangle with hers. She rotated her body around until she was facing him, her knees weakening as she took in his naked form and the hunger in his eyes. He gave her no breathing room as he backed her up against the shower wall with his mouth back over hers. She moaned in encouragement at his eagerness, feeling his desire, the tender urgency in every kiss and touch and caress – it had been a while since they last made love, and she would be lying if she said she didn't want him inside of her.

Their tongues clashed fervently, craving the taste of each other, the heat of their desire radiating through the small enclosure. Roman's long fingers threaded through Jasmine's wet hair and angled her head back to attack her neck with his lips, his hard body pressing against hers. She dragged her fingers down his muscled back, pulling him even closer, if that was possible. His low growl vibrated in his chest as he rolled his hips, making her moan as his erection rubbed against her lower belly. His hands gripped her ass cheeks, kneading and squeezing them between his rough palms as they grinded against each other.

“I love the way you feel beneath my hands, baby girl,” he whispered in that deep timbre of his that always made her melt inside. “I love the way your body reacts when I touch you and love on you. Like it knows it’s mine.”

“It’s yours. Baby I’m all yours,” she answered without hesitation.

Roman growled in appreciation and pressed open-mouthed kisses against her warm skin, his tongue rolling over as many goosebumps as possible. He licked his way down her body until he was on his knees. His hand then slipped down to palm her leg before hitching it over his shoulder, gripping her thigh to hold her steady as she found her balance.

“I got you. Relax for Daddy, baby,” he assured her, watching her stare down at him, licking her lips as she nodded. Nuzzling his face against her soft folds, he breathed her in, his brain filling up with the heady mix of shower gel and her natural scent that called out to him to be devoured. He was all too happy to oblige.

With the tip of his tongue, he flicked her clit, teasing the bundle of nerves, gripping her hips as she bucked against his face and tugged his hair hard. He hummed softly at the slight pain, swiping the flat of his tongue along her slit and groaning at the taste. So good, so rich. He licked her thoroughly, repeatedly, his thumb sliding in to play with her clit at the same time. Her voice went up several decibels in reaction, her fingers digging into his hair as he slurped her juices.

"Baby…shit," Jasmine groaned above him, "Fuck, Roman..."

Groaning back to her, he widened his mouth over her pussy for a slew of French kisses before letting his fingers take over, sliding his mouth back over her clit. Keeping her pinned against the wall, he proceeded to destroy her by suckling and tonguing the sensitive nub while pumping three fingers inside her. His already hard dick twitched at the sweet sounds of her pussy and her cries for him, echoing around the enclosure as he milked her nectar, drowning out the running water. Jasmine arched against the wall as she detonated, her inner muscles keeping his long, thick fingers in a death grip. That grip was broken as she broke, her body falling to pieces from the intense pleasure.

Roman gently set her leg back down and got to his feet. Jasmine collapsed in his huge arms, burying her face in his neck with a soft, satisfied moan as he pressed her back against the wall. “Jesus, Ro,” she gasped.

“I got you,” he whispered. He lifted her head up to kiss her, his tongue sliding indulgently against her own as soon as she opened her mouth for him.

"Mmmm, I taste good," she panted, licking her lips with a grin.

“You always do,” he responded, placing his mouth back over hers to taste her some more. Her wet body stuck to his, and his dick stirred again. Feeling him throb between them, she wasted no time reaching down and curling her fingers around the turgid length, rubbing and tugging it, biting her lip as she met his heated stare.

"I want it deep in me, Daddy, give it to me." She spoke in that pleading, breathy tone he could never resist. Throwing the shower door open, he pulled her behind him, both still dripping wet as they stumbled out of the bathroom. Upon reaching the bed, Jasmine sat Roman down and stood between his spread thighs. Her hungry stare locked with his as he wrapped his fingers around his cock and slowly massaged it.

“Be a good girl and come suck Daddy dick,” he drawled, his hand sliding up and down the thick, delectable length. Fuck, he looked so enticing laying down like that. Like the good girl that she was, she sank down to her knees, her hand closing around his dick, and she slashed her tongue over the swollen head. Roman watched her intently as she sucked him, feeling his knees weaken as she sank him further into the inviting warmth of her mouth. Her soft moans were everything, even as she took him all in, making gulping sounds around his cock that never failed to send shivers down his spine. His hand cupped the back of her head, letting out a moan of his own as she grabbed his balls, tugging them in tandem with her sucking.

His groans of pleasure and his dark intense eyes caused a flood in her loins. Completely turned on, she gobbled up his dick, making him moan louder as she swallowed him all up. He caressed her head, lifting his hips up, needing to be deeper somehow. She leaned forwards, her arms stretched over the length of his muscled thighs to keep him still. With her palms splayed over his crunching abs, she proceeded to deep-throat him, her mouth meeting his pelvis, holding it there to suckle the base of his dick before dragging the tightness of her lips back up to the tip. Rinse and repeat.

“Baby girl, you gon' make me come,” Roman soon grunted, his deep voice shaken as he gripped her hair. She hummed her permission, the vibrations around his dick rippling through his big frame and tightening his balls. His eyes rolled in the back of his head. “Shit, I’m ‘bout to come for you, baby. Open your mouth.”

Jasmine obeyed, wincing a little from his steely grip holding her in place. She didn’t mind too much; the best reward was watching him jerk himself frantically in her face, his own twisting with painful pleasure as he burst all over her tongue and partly on her chin. He groaned again when she wrapped her lips back around him and sucked hard, drinking down his cum like it was her favorite beverage. When she released him, he prayed he had some left in him as he was far from done with her. He used his thumb to clean his mess off her face and stuck the digit inside her mouth, gasping as she licked it clean, her eyes on him the entire time.

“God you’re so sexy, my little fuckin’ slut. C'mere,” he praised her, pulling her into the bed and on top of him for a deep kiss full of tongue. Jasmine rocked against him, her wetness brushing ominously against the tip of his dick. Thanks to Corbin's act of savagery, she was no longer protected and he himself didn’t have any condoms. But just as quickly as the reminder appeared, he shooed it away. They could most likely be dead before tomorrow ended. Protection was the least of their worries. He wanted to fill her up with everything he had. Tonight had to be memorable.

“Assume position, baby,” he commanded, sitting up on his knees and maneuvering behind her.

“Yes Daddy.” She wasted little time, turning around, spreading her legs apart, teasing him with a quick twerk of her ass cheeks and earning a smack on her butt. He wasted no time either, sliding right into her, both of them moaning as he met little resistance. His hands massaged her ass as he pulled out then pushed back in, working his way into her with slow, gentle thrusts all the way to her hilt. He was so conversant with her pussy; knowing exactly where to position that dick, how to stroke the most sensitive spot inside her that maximized her pleasure; her wetness was already seeping down her thighs and onto the bed.

“Mmm, look how wet you are. You drippin’ for me, babe,” Roman smirked, watching with fascination as his dick disappeared inside her warm wetness. “That’s how you take Daddy’s dick, lemme bust that phat pussy open, baby.”

“Oooh fuck, Roman, that feels…”

“Shit feel good, yeah babe?”

Temporarily robbed of all ability to speak, Jasmine could only moan out the rest of her thoughts, delirious from the feel of his heavy balls slapping her clit, his thighs bumping against hers from behind, and best of all, his big ass dick stretching her open. “Yes, Daddy, oh my god,” she whined, tears filling her eyes. He felt incredible, so sinfully good. How had she ever lived without him?

His fist was in her hair now, bringing her head up off the bed as he thrust harder. His other hand played with her breast from behind and tweaked the bud of her nipple, making him moan as her pussy contracted around him. He leaned down to nuzzle her throat, his lips ghosting over her jawline until she turned her face to him and let him claim her mouth with his.

After a few minutes of taking her in this position, he pulled out and flipped her onto her back. Climbing on top of her, he patted his girthy dick against her softened folds before pushing back inside. His long, damp locks cascaded down his strong shoulders, framing his gorgeous features. Her hands reached up to caress his face, then gripped the back of his neck to pull his mouth to hers. He hitched her left leg under the crook of his arm and then the right, opening her up for him to pound her out. Her back arched with a moan, her pussy tightening around his thick length as he plunged deep into her over and over. Moving her legs up onto his shoulders, he went to town, feeding her with long, lavish strokes that found every sweet spot she owned. He was on a mission, almost obsessed with his need to pleasure her, to make her feel things she’d never felt before, things he'd been feeling for her since the very beginning of their relationship.

“You feel fuckin’ amazing, Jasmine.” His voice was so deep and rough in her ear and dripped with pure lust. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand up and goosebumps sprout all over her heated skin. She didn’t know where to put her hands, switching from gripping the bed sheets to grabbing his shoulders before settling on his broad back. Her moans devolved into soft sobs as he kept up the dizzying onslaught. He brought his face closer to hers and kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring the warmth of her mouth.

“I love you so much,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” she said, her jaw dropping as her eyes flickered to the spot where their bodies connected, watching his dick drill and grind into her like he was searching for oil. “Oh my god, Daddy, you’re fuckin' the shit outta me…”

“I keep telling you this pussy good, babe,” Roman said, licking the seam of her lips. “Wet and tight as fuck…you make me wanna come all up in it.”

She couldn’t bring herself to respond, not with the way he was holding her down to the bed and winding his hips, making his dick massage her spot. Her pussy rippled around him yet again and she panted heavily, her toes curling behind his head as she whined his name. Hearing his name pour from her lips and the way she moaned and cried and begged snapped something deep within Roman. He pounded her pussy harder, gazing at her with bright, lust-filled eyes, “I can tell you’re close, baby. Let it go. Come again for me,” he cajoled her.

On command, her orgasm washed over her. She squeezed her eyes shut as she screamed, her body convulsing beneath him from the barrage of pleasure. Ecstatic. Overwhelming. All of that and more.

Roman pulled out of her and looked on, proud of his handiwork as he watched his lover squirm and gasp beneath him, squeezing her thighs together as pleasure ravaged her entire being. Opening her legs wide again, he loomed over her, guiding his dick back inside her and pushing home. He had all the pleasure she could ever want, and he was going to give it all to her. As her back arched off the bed, he seized the chance to wrap his arms around her and hoist her upright so she was on top of him.

“Come on, ride your Samoan stallion,” he instructed, smacking her backside in encouragement.

Recovering from her shudders, Jasmine steadied herself on top of him. With her knees up, she rested her hands on his abs and began to fuck him, dragging that pussy back and forth on his dick. She leaned down and brushed their mouths together, then sat back up to ride him a little harder. It was her turn to hold him down to the bed as her wet pussy slid up and down his cock, engulfing his length with the tightness of her walls. Looking up at her, eyes dilated, deep caramel skin glistening with sweat, full breasts bouncing and her lips parted in exertion, Roman nearly lost it right then. She had him growling and panting as she dropped down on his cock again and again and again, taking him deep. He ran his hand up her stomach and between her breasts until they closed around her throat, squeezing just enough to make her audibly bite back a moan. With his other hand, he held onto her waist, planted his feet on the bed, and raised his hips to push his dick up against her g-spot at the perfect angle to make her shiver against him.

"Unnnnhhhh..." she groaned, her thighs shaking and quaking at his sides.

"Mm-hmm, I know that's the spot right there, sweetheart. You gon' come for me. Nut on Daddy's cock, baby girl, give it to me," he whispered, grinding up into her, tightening his grasp around her throat. He was slipping inside her far too easily, yet she was still so tight. He moaned as on cue, she clenched around him, her strangled cry vibrating through them both as she gushed like a fountain all over his groin.

"Fuuuck..." Jasmine's head rocked backwards as her body shook, whimpering, her breathing raspy. The climax was so powerful that she couldn't think straight. Roman moaned and thrust upwards into her, faster, harder, drowning in the wet squelching of her tight pussy, increasing his pleasure and hers. His breaths came in ragged bursts and his muscles tensed, his toes curling as he tumbled into his own release. He emptied himself inside her, his own body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through every nerve ending of his.

He barely felt her soft kiss on his cheek afterwards, barely felt her hand steer his face to meet her mouth, their lips and tongues sweeping together in the tastiest, most sensual of kisses. As they moaned into each other’s mouths, his senses came alive again, luxuriating in their post-coital embrace. He was almost disappointed when she finally dismounted him, and he shuddered as her skin smoothed lazily over his, the memory of being inside her setting his skin afire. Her beautiful face was flushed with satisfaction as she stared down at her lover.

"Damn, baby, fuck,” she moaned, smoothing out her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead. Roman watched her with mischief in his eyes.

“You good, baby girl?" he teased. "Didn't wear you out, did I?"

"Pfft. You know I handled that good dick, Daddy," she replied, her brown eyes still cloudy in the afterglow. She snuggled closer to him, her arm slung over his waist. "This is the real reason I ain’t never letting you go. You put it down on me so good, babe. Imma glue my pussy to your cock at this point.”

They both burst out laughing at the weird imagery before falling into a comfortable silence. When Roman spoke again, his tone was more serious. "Honestly, I can’t wait for all this running and hiding to be over," he said.

"It will be. Soon,” Jasmine promised.

Roman reached up to caress her face, gazing intently at her. "You sound so sure."

The former F.L.O.R.A agent bit her lip and nodded slowly. "We will. We’ll make it out of this. I trust you and I trust our abilities together. But for now...we need to get some sleep.”

“Do we?”

Raising her eyebrows, she watched his hand close over her breast, kneading the round soft flesh. The lazy flicks of his fingers over her peaked, sensitive nipple made her gasp. “Ro…”

"Baby, we could be dead by tomorrow," he said, his voice deep and serious as he looked into her eyes. "Until then, I wanna spend every waking second in your arms, to be buried inside you for as long as I can until we get there. I hope you don't mind."

Jasmine felt an overwhelming surge of love and heartache at his words as she realized that indeed, this could be the last time they would be together like this. "I guess not," she finally succumbed, looking on as he rolled back on top of her, his mouth tugging her nipples in a string of wet, sloppy kisses that had her pussy aching again. At his hungry expression, she swallowed hard, growing weak for him as she felt his hardness rub against the mound of her pussy.

Pulling her thigh over his waist, he kissed her lips, slipping his tongue inside her mouth as he massaged his cock between their bodies. "I love you, Jasmine. I’ll still love you long after I’m gone," he declared, his voice heavy with emotion.

Jasmine squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. "I love you, Roman. I love you until my last breath. I will love you even more after that," she whispered. She returned his tender kiss, feeling him grip the back of her thigh, lifting her body against him as he sank back into her warm, inviting depths…

-----------------

She sat up in bed as she watched him sleep. With tears in her eyes, she watched the way his chest rose and fell, his breathing deep and even. The sheets were draped over his hip, right below the V-shaped contour on his hip bone. His tousled hair swept over his face, and she gently raked it back, letting her fingers graze his chiseled cheek. Staring at him for one moment longer, she then shut her eyes, inhaled deeply, and chased all her emotions back into the recesses of her mind, allowing the calm ruthlessness she used to be known for to take over her entire being once again. Her features were hardened, passive, as she got up from the bed, limped over to the ceiling to floor window and made the call she'd been waiting to make since leaving Rose behind.

A female voice answered the other end of the line. "Identify."

"Four, one, three, six, eight, five, six," Jasmine answered, walking over to stand next to the glass door leading to the balcony.

A tense pause followed, then, "Your identification has been expunged from our records."

They'd erased her already. She expected that. "I have a package for the boss. For both of them. It's something they want. Urgently."

The female voice went quiet again. Several seconds passed before she spoke again. "Where would you like to make your delivery?"

"Somewhere public, covered. No clean shots."

"There may be no guarantee to that."

"I don't give a fuck, Petunia. Yeah, I know it's you. You better guarantee it, or I'll hang up and this conversation never happened." The tone of Jasmine's voice was hard, menacing. "Then you'll never see me or him again, and you know I can make that happen."

Once more, the other end of the line was silent, contemplative. "Where do you have in mind?"

She gave the coordinates and ended the call. She cast a glance towards the bed again. Roman was still asleep. She looked back out into the horizon, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in thought. The sun was rising, bleeding red. The significance was not lost on her.

------------------

We're getting closer to the end.

Credit to the owners of the gifs.

#roman reigns #wwe #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns fanfic #smackdown #the bloodline #roman reigns x oc #the tribal chief

51 notes · View notes