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Vorfreude (vor-freu-de)
-(n.) The joyful, intense anticipation that comes from imagining future pleasures.
She’s not quite sure what drives her to follow him back to the hotel, but she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him alone after that panic attack. Without really knowing how, she suddenly finds herself standing at his door after knocking back a shot at the hotel bar, hearing her knuckles rap against the wood as if through a tunnel.
The lack of surprise in his expression when he opens the door puzzles her. His eyebrows only slightly raise, no furrow to his brow, mere minutes after his own arrival back here.
It’s not like she planned it, but in a way, she might have. She gave him about five minutes to himself before her instincts kicked in and she found herself heading up there, knocking on his door.
Her lips still tingling with the taste of tequila, she offers him a smile, hoping to convey the kindness, warmth, and reassurance she often feels she lacks - the kind that Ted is oh so good at projecting. His expression smooths out and Rebecca takes the chance to look at him. He’s already changed into snug, grey sweatpants that leave little to the imagination, and an old, faded blue t-shirt. His hair is slicked back again, that tendril that had come loose during his panic attack back in place. He looks handsome and it hits her then that she’s here for a very specific reason.
No matter if she’s ready to admit it to herself or not, despite any guilt nagging at her for her horrible, grand scheme, her body craves one thing, and she’s staring it straight in the face. Despite this realization, she’s surprised when Ted speaks first.
“Hey, Boss. Whatcha doin’ here?” he asks, pulling her out of her thoughts.
Despite her internal thoughts around just what it is she’s doing here, she’s certainly not ready to share them with him. And besides, she thinks he knows exactly what it is she’s doing here. So, rather than answer his question, she poses one of her own.
“Do you really want to talk about it?”
Ted rubs the back of his neck in a nervous gesture she knows well. He averts his gaze, focusing rather intently on his feet. “Nah. Not really.”
With a nod and more confidence than she feels in the moment, she steps past him into his hotel room, resolved to pursue her desires, no matter how new - and possibly deranged - they are. Earlier at dinner, the moment that cute waiter flirted back, she knew she didn’t want to settle for a night with a stranger, no matter how attractive - and young - he was. She wanted - needed - something real. Whether Ted and her can have that something real remains another matter, but she’s here now, no time for second guessing.
Thankfully, Ted shows no inclination to question her or her motives. He simply allows her to walk past him without uttering a word, before shutting the door behind her.
Once she’s inside and enclosed in his space, she turns towards him, crowding him against the back of the door.
His eyes dart around nervously, possibly searching for an escape, which worries her. But the hitch in his breath as she presses herself closer reveals all she needs to know to proceed without much hesitation.
She tenderly cradles his face, compelling him to meet her gaze. “I’m going to do something, and if you don’t… If it’s not okay, you tell me, and we’ll never speak of this again.”
Ted seems to catch her drift, his shy, subtle nod encouraging her to lean in, especially when she notices the curious and fond look on his face.
She presses herself against him, their bodies fitting together perfectly as her lips meet his. It takes him a moment to respond, but once he does, the kiss is hot and wet, almost bruising. When the need for air becomes too much, they reluctantly part. Rebecca feels dizzy, not only from the lack of oxygen but also from the intensity of his kisses. It’s as if he wants to devour her.
Ted’s eyes are half-lidded as he drifts close again and Rebecca lets her own eyes close when his tongue traces her bottom lip. She can’t help but let out a little noise in the back of her throat when his hands land on her hips, and she’s so drunk on the way his moustache subtly tickles her skin that she allows him to push his tongue into her mouth without a second thought.
Needing to regain some measure of control - this was her idea, after all - she meets his tongue with her own, enjoying the lingering taste of bourbon. Usually, she hates the flavour of brown liquor, but it’s not so unpleasant when he’s the source of it.
They trade kisses, pushing and pulling at each other, relinquishing and reclaiming control, but it’s only when he pants into her mouth that she leans back so he can catch his breath, a little whimper leaving his lips as the distance increases between them. For a second, her heart drops, wondering if she’s misread the situation and that he wants her to stop. It’s only when she notices his closed eyes and him blindly searching for her mouth that she realizes that he is just as enraptured as she is. But, just to be sure…
“Okay?” she whispers, the moment feeling too tenuous to speak any louder.
Ted keeps his hands on her waist, holding her pressed against him as his eyes flutter open. His voice is a soft, breathless murmur when he responds, “Just dandy, Boss. I don’t know in what world I wouldn’t want ya to keep doing what you’re doing.” His hooded eyes take her in, darting across every inch of her face, seeming to catalogue her reaction to his words. “You doin’ okay?”
She knows her expression will tell him everything he has to know about this.
She’s sure.
She wants him.
There’s no room for doubt.
So with that, she shushes him, her finger on his lips. “I’m good. But no more talking.”
“Fine by me,” he rasps, slotting his mouth over hers and drinking in the gasp she lets escape.
There’s nothing gentlemanly in the way he kisses her now, the way he squeezes none too gently at her waist, the way he fucking flips their positions around like it’s nothing. Something in her gut thrills at the way he manhandles her, the way he curls his tongue around hers, the way he nips at her bottom lip. It all combines to drive her mad with want.
God, she has never been kissed like this before.
Almost like he has the same madness running through his own veins, he pulls at her blouse, freeing it from her skirt, seemingly desperate to get his hands on her skin. He sighs in relief when his hands grasp her still clothed hips, his thumbs rubbing circles along her bare skin under her now untucked shirt. Their kiss is still ongoing, hasn’t stopped as he uses his grip to pull her forward into him. She feels his lips curve upwards in a smirk when she moans at the contact of his hard cock with her clothed cunt.
Ted grunts as she rubs herself against him and pins her using his own hips against the door, caging her in. His eyes dart between her own, something dangerous but fond flashing across his gaze. She’s about to ask just what the fuck he’s staring at before he grins a little dirtily, leaning down to mouth at her neck.
His hot breath fans over her skin, lips tracing the jut of her jaw and down the column of her throat before he pulls her blouse to the side, sinking his teeth into her collarbone. She keens, her hands scrabbling to get ahold of him, but Ted grabs her wrists and pins them above her head with one hand, his mouth still delivering the most delicious assault on her neck.
Once she’s certain he’s left a mark, he doesn’t linger, littering sweet, soft - almost apologetic - kisses all over her face. She feels treasured, a little bit like this is a moment between lovers as opposed to boss-and-employee-turned-fuck-buddies. Before she can let those thoughts get a bit too overwhelming, he slides his tongue along the spot right below her ear that never fails to make her shiver, her throat bobbing as she swallows back the sounds she wants to make.
He moves along, kissing the column of her throat gently before he licks and nips at her other collarbone, pushing his hips into hers and causing little sparks to erupt below her waistline. It’s on another of those delightful grinding motions that he lets his teeth pull at the shell of her ear softly, his voice rough as he speaks.
“One more thing… Are you expectin’ me to be some kind of Midwestern gentleman tonight?” he asks, a subtle lilt in his voice.
Rebecca watches as he leans back to meet her gaze, giving him a look that undoubtedly conveys her intentions. “I’d prefer if you left your manners behind, Ted.”
His gaze is darker now, lust and desire blending together in his beautiful brown eyes - she’s always thought them so, even when he was just some wanker she’d hired to tank the team. At her response, he grins mischievously before he hums, the feeling of it rumbling against her chest making her tremble. Before she can process her body’s reaction, he’s grabbing her firmly and bending her over the desk next to the door.
As she lays her cheek on the wood, she sees signed divorce papers lying right next to her. His palm lies flat between her shoulder blades, anchoring her in place as he presses his erection against the curve of her arse.
“I have the utmost respect for you, Boss. Remember that,” he husks, letting his hips pull back before pushing them into her again, causing enough rattling on the desk for a small toy soldier and a pen to fall right to the floor.
All that lingers beside her face is a solitary piece of paper adorned with two signatures.
“That’s sweet of you to say, Ted. But why are you telling me this?” she asks, her voice coming out strained.
He grunts as he palms her arse, like he can’t quite help but be a little distracted by her. “Because I’m gonna fuck you like I don’t.”
A rush of heat courses through her, intensifying the arousal pooling in her stomach. There’s no time to wonder where this side of Ted has been hiding all these months she’s known him because he bucks his hips like he can’t quite control himself. The thought that his body is betraying what his words won’t forces a hiss from her even as she locks eyes with him over her shoulder.
Despite his words and the borderline harsh way he’s touching her, she notes the caring in his dark gaze. It makes her smile while she drawls, “Please, by all means, get on with it.”
Suddenly, a slap lands on her arse, sending tingles through her, though her skirt offers some protection. The sensation is new, yet oddly delightful, and Rebecca squirms just as another slap to the same area follows.
“Always knew you’d be impatient, but you gotta be good for me.”
She can’t help but moan at his words, pressing her arse back against him, craving more of his warmth, the firmness of his arousal, any sensation she can find.
“See? You need to behave. You think you can do that, sweetheart?”
As he rubs his hips against her, her eyes begin to roll back in her head, lost in the sensation.
Her attention becomes solely fixated on his cock, his touch, and the way he’s grinding his shaft into her.
Her aching cunt clenches around nothing, a plaintive whimper escaping her lips just as his palm makes contact with another part of her arse. The dull throb causes her head to spin, her body writhing uncontrollably to hopefully feel his cock press into her again.
“I asked if you’d be good for me,” he murmurs hoarsely, his fingers pressing into her hip. “I expect an answer when I ask you a question, darlin’.”
“Yes,” she replies through clenched teeth. Even that word, said in his Midwestern drawl, has her knickers flooding. “Yes, I will.”
“Good. I’mma take care of you.” He exhales, almost like it’s a relief to hear she can be good for him, almost like he needed to hear it from her before he could continue.
Before she can parse out the reasoning behind that relief, he’s effortlessly guiding her up and around until she’s facing him once more.
Now that she can see his face again, he grins, his charming folksy demeanor shining through. Suddenly, he’s her Ted - not her Ted, just the Ted she’s become so used to - and she can’t help but let her lips curve upwards at him as he adjusts a few stray hairs for her, ensuring they’re out of her face.
“Do you trust me?”
It’s not even a question at this point. “Yes,” she replies breathlessly.
She doesn’t really ponder it. Instinctively, she just trusts him. It’s been that way ever since he stepped into her office and laughed at her joke about her father.
He unbuttons her blouse, his hands far steadier than they were outside that karaoke bar. His fingertips brush against her skin, and once he’s finished unbuttoning it, he lets it hang open, his eyes roaming over her exposed flesh. She should feel bashful - would be with any other man - but instead, she feels empowered. His gaze lingers on her breasts, and just as he links his hands behind her back, under her blouse so they’re skin to skin, his eyes find her face again.
“Gosh, I want you. Been havin’ many impure thoughts about you lately, Boss.”
“You have?” she responds, surprised by his confession. She can usually always tell when a man wants her and Ted’s never given her those vibes before. He’s always been the perfect gentleman.
“You got no idea how much I’ve been wantin’ to touch you. How much I’ve wanted to look and had to be good instead.”
She leans in, her breath mingling with his, her hand gently gripping the back of his head, fingers running through his hair. “Prove it.”
He chuckles, the low sound going straight to her clit, closing the gap between their mouths for a fleeting moment. “Trouble. That’s what you are. But I will. You’ll see.”
She wants to challenge that confidence of his, but before she can, he’s kissing her passionately, rendering her speechless, leaving her only able to make the desperate sounds she’s been holding back. His hands are everywhere, gripping at her back, sliding along the front of her lace bra - thank fuck she’d worn the racier set tonight - holding her waist with palms so large and warm, she’s soon breathless with it. She wonders what those hands will feel like elsewhere on her body, but she’s also eager to steal his breath as much as he’s doing to her.
“Had myself a very dirty dream starring yours truly. Came all over my boxers before I woke up,” he mutters between kisses.
She can’t help but let out a loud groan at the thought. Most men might feel embarrassed by such an admission, but not Ted. To him, it’s clearly a compliment that the idealized version of her was enticing enough to make him come. Who would have guessed that her goodhearted and kind gaffer could possess such depths…? He’s certainly a delightful revelation.
He pulls back, a smirk playing on his lips when she tries to follow.
“I wanna fuck you right up against that window. Or out on the balcony. Your choice, Boss.”
His eyes, now black with desire, tell her unmistakably that he has every intention of completely wrecking her. And fuck, how she wants to be wrecked, particularly by him. She can feel how drenched her panties are as she squirms, trying to ease the ache in her cunt.
Ted’s finger trails delicately over the swell of her breasts as he shifts closer, his arousal pressing against her hip.
“Which is it gonna be, Rebecca?” he whispers, swiping a thumb over her nipple.
She can barely think with him touching her like this, but there’s an undeniable allure in the way he utters her name, his soft drawl infusing it with a tender charm that is so like him. She’s never paid much attention to her own name, but when Ted says it, somehow, she finds herself liking it. When he says it, it occurs to her it’s not entirely a terrible name.
She had no idea this side of him even existed until now, and now he’s asking to fuck her out on the balcony? Is she dreaming? Subtly, she tries to pinch herself, realizing this is real with a wince she tries to hide.
She takes her time to look at the window, at the balcony, and she knows what she wants within seconds, even though tonight is a bit chilly. She’s feeling so hot that the change in temperature might just be what she needs to think straight.
Gently, he grasps her chin, guiding her face towards him with unwavering patience.
“Well?” he asks, eyebrows raised in anticipation as he awaits her response.
“B-balcony.”
Jesus Christ, Rebecca - get a grip! When has she ever been a stuttering mess?
The gleam in his eyes, the forceful grip on her jaw as he delivers a scorching kiss, the swift motion to unzip her skirt and guide her out of it, leaving her clad only in heels, panties, and an open blouse as he takes her hand and leads them outside…She’s almost convinced he must have shared a past life with her, given his uncanny knowledge of her most depraved fantasies.
He backs her against the railing, his arms caging her in, a hungry look in his eyes.
Fuck… She might not survive him.
His hand cups her over her panties, causing a hitch in her breathing. As his fingers trail over her, the chilly breeze offers a surprising comfort against her heated skin, helping to clear her thoughts just enough to really take it all in.
“Boy, oh boy. You’re drippin’, sweetheart,” he croons, dragging a knuckle down her covered slit.
“Your fault, really,” she gasps, swivelling her hips up into his hand, trying to get more friction.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he rumbles, his eyes dropping to her cunt. She senses how affected he is as his voice deepens, especially with the way he’s licking at his lips like he’s parched.
Ted kneels, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of her knickers, pushing them down and helping her lift her legs one by one, letting her step out of them. She’s about to crouch and remove her heels when a firm hand halts her, delicately resting on her knee.
“Keep ‘em.”
She meets his gaze then, nodding a little shyly before his eyes zero in on her slit, which she knows must be giving him quite the show. He doesn’t dwell there, not leaving her enough time to grow self-conscious, getting up and crowding her against the railing again. He lets his hand find her cunt, letting her move against it right as his fingers find her entrance.
He pushes two inside her, releasing a slow exhale as her breath catches, his mouth covering hers before she can ask for more.
Ted thrusts them inside her just enough to give her a taste, pulling them out and looking at them, seemingly admiring how wet and sticky they are. He smiles as he brings them towards his mouth, licking his fingers clean with his gaze fixed on her face. His eyes flutter shut as he sucks on his treat, the taste of her making him grind his hips into her.
“Ted –” she whines, desperate to have him fuck her, but he covers her mouth with his to quiet her.
The taste of herself on his tongue causes her knees to weaken, but Ted steadies her, his other hand positioned at the small of her back to prevent the railing from uncomfortably pressing against her skin.
Despite her lips beginning to feel bruised, he kisses her with such tenderness that she experiences a sense of being genuinely desired for the first time in her life. It’s clearly not just her body that he desires; it’s something far deeper. Whatever this is, whatever they’re doing, he makes her feel wanted and truly seen.
She whimpers when he pulls away, but he lets her rut against his sweatpant-covered thigh, the grey slowly growing darker with the wet patch she’s leaving.
“Look at you… So desperate,” he rasps, seizing her hips and guiding her to grind against the firm muscles of his thigh. “How stunning would you look, comin’ all over me like this?”
“Please,” she begs, not even remotely embarrassed as she watches his expression darken.
But the bastard just grins, completely pulling away.
She almost shouts in frustration. She is aching to be filled, her clit is throbbing, and if he doesn’t help her relieve the pressure soon, she won’t be held responsible for her actions…
Rebecca grabs his jaw more fiercely than she intended, but Ted’s eyes roll back inside his head with a low grunt before she forces him to look at her.
“You’d better get on with it, Coach, or I’m leaving and taking matters into my own hands,” she warns, her voice carrying a sharp edge.
He gently removes her hand from his person, leans in, and plants a sweet kiss on her cheek. Shortly after, his mouth finds the crook of her neck, his chest pressing against hers. “Now, now… That wouldn’t be half as good as I’m gonna be to you. But I’ll give it to you, it’s mighty hot when you talk back.”
Rebecca can’t help but scoff, feeling far too desperate for relief to truly accept the compliment.
Ted leans back, gently grasping her face and gazing at her with a hint of fondness flickering in his eyes. “Do you really not know how sexy you are, Rebecca? Fuck… Do you not know how hard I get when you moan with your mouth full of the biscuits I make just for you?”
To be fair, those khakis leave nothing to the imagination. Much like the grey sweatpants he’s wearing now. She can’t say she’s noticed him with a hard-on, but she’s definitely seen how any pants he owns seem to outline his cock perfectly, drawing her attention to it.
“Ted…”
“Your voice, your accent… Could probably get off on that alone, someday.”
She won’t lie, hearing about someday makes her knees weak, but she lets her eyes roam across his face, realizing he’s serious as her eyes dart from eye to eye before she quirks an eyebrow. “Are you going to fuck me or not?”
He shrugs. “Not until you let me tell you just how much of a goddess you are.”
She sighs, a tad impatient and exasperated. “If I thank you after you give me a compliment, will you finally touch me?”
He waggles his eyebrows playfully. “Well, there’s only one way to find out, ain’t there?”
Oh, the fucker.
“Fine.”
“You’re gorgeous, Boss. Absolutely breathtakin’.”
She feels a rush of heat to her cheeks, already boiling from within, and if she weren't already so heated, she might scold herself for blushing like a schoolgirl. “Thank you.”
He doesn’t lose a second, his fingers finding her entrance and sliding inside again.
“Wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“Fuck you,” she bites back, too riled up, even as she lets out an involuntary moan when he pets at a particular spot inside her.
He huffs, surely feeling her frustration is not entirely directed at him. “You’re somethin’ fierce, ain’tcha?”
She’s panting as his fingers drive inside her relentlessly, curling just so, his thumb flicking mercilessly at her clit.
“Fierce?” she repeats with an air of disbelief. “You can say I’m a cold-hearted bitch, Ted. You wouldn’t be the first one.”
“But you ain’t. You may think I can’t see past the ice, but my own fingers tell me you’re quite warm, sweetheart.”
Fucking hell, he’s driving her right towards the edge with words and his fingers - fuck, those fucking beautiful hands.
“You got a good heart, I can tell,” he adds with a well-placed thrust.
God, she hopes he remembers that when –
“Y’know, I like you fierce. Keeps me on my toes,” he continues. “Just like those pencil skirts you wear that hug your silhouette, those dang blouses that let me see all that neck, those legs of yours in heels… I never know what to expect when I mosey on up those stairs, but golly, you never disappoint. Whether it’s a new outfit or some kind of biting remark, I feel like I never know what I’m gonna get and that is…really something. It’s like you were designed to be irresistible. So tell me, Boss… how’s a mere mortal like me supposed to resist you?”
He keeps her close against his chest, leaving her to moan and whine right into his ear as his fingers work her up, as his voice and his sweet, honey drawl make her wetter.
“Who says I want you to resist, Coach?” she asks between panting breaths and tight whimpers.
He grinds against her a few times, the noticeable bulge in his sweatpants making the tension between her legs grow.
“Those noises you make… Gosh, you sound incredible. If I ain’t real careful, this is gonna be over for me way too soon.”
She moans in response, but decides to keep a tight lid on it since they’re outside. Nonetheless, she feels how taut her lower stomach starts to feel, how her cunt flutters around his digits. His thumb is moving flawlessly over her clit, she’s so close, she can feel her peak within reach.
“I’m sure you can be louder than that for me, Rebecca.”
“Ted –”
“Do I need to stop and make you beg? I wanna hear you.”
Ted withdraws his fingers and drops to his knees, kisses her inner thighs with care before he suckles on the tender skin there, looking right up at her before he licks a broad stripe up her slit, lapping at her juices and swirling his tongue over that sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Be loud for me,” he grits out, driving two fingers inside her again, his breath warm and delicious against her core.
She curses, burying her hand in his hair, shoving her cunt into his face as his mouth finds her clit again, sucking on it harshly enough to make her mewl his name.
“Louder,” he insists, and she pulls at the strands of his hair, making him groan in return.
He drapes one of her legs over his shoulder, leaving the railing behind her to dig into her skin as she holds herself up, his mouth positively attached to her clit and sucking on it like he wants to physically pull the orgasm out of her.
Rebecca moans so loud she hears it echoing around the balcony, and if anyone is in the vicinity and looks up, she’s going to have a field day with the press. But she can’t bring herself to care, not when Ted keeps fucking her with his fingers, curling them just so, pressing against that fleshy spot inside her with unerring precision.
“Good girl. You’re doin’ so good,” he coos. “Keep going, baby. You’re makin’ the most beautiful sounds.”
Fuck, he’s good at this.
Much to her surprise, she feels something heal within her as he asks her repeatedly to be loud. Rupert always said that only whores made so much noise. But Ted doesn’t make her feel like a whore. He makes her feel desired, like she’s his whole world. So, she doesn’t hold back like she normally would, giving voice to every bit of her pleasure…for him… because of him. To be fair, he deserves for her to be loud. He’s playing her marvelously, strumming her chords with finesse, like an instrument he’s owned for years.
She can feel it in her gut, feels how he’s untangling every single knot and bringing her over the edge. And with a well-timed thrust of his fingers, with his lips sucking harder on her clit, she lets go, feeling herself tumbling over the precipice.
Thankfully, Ted holds her up because she feels herself crumbling into him. But, like he did at the gala, he catches her. It’s been a theme in their friendship recently. They catch each other when they stumble and fall. Although, it’s certainly the first time in this context.
He gets up swiftly, turns her to face the railing and she hears the sounds of shuffling behind her. She imagines he’s lowering his sweats enough to expose his cock. It takes seconds before she feels the head tease her entrance.
But instead of teasing her like he’s been doing all night, she feels him slowly begin to enter her inch by inch, the stretch absolutely mind-numbing, her cunt still pulsating from her first orgasm. She lets out a loud, needy whine when she feels him hit deeper than her biggest toy, deeper than any man has ever been.
Before she knows it, Ted is fully sheathed. He takes his time, letting her adjust to his size, brushing kisses along her still-clothed shoulders. But she doesn’t want his tenderness now, wants to feel him for days, wants to know he’s been there for hours, so she arches her back and rocks back against him, leaving him to bury the pads of his fingers into the skin of her waist.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he mutters, his curse a staccato beat as he thrusts once, her arms almost failing to keep her upright. He tuts, a faint chuckle passing his lips. “Better hold on tight, baby.”
She’s ready to beg him to move, do something, anything, but before she can even open her mouth properly, he sets an unforgiving pace.
The stretch of him hurts a little, but it’s just on the right side of pleasurable, especially since every thrust makes her surge forward, her hard nipples rubbing against the lacy material of her bra and driving her insane.
She’s getting so close again, his hands so tightly wound around her hips that she hopes she’ll see his hand imprints there in the morning. She wants to be marked, bruised, wake up to realize this actually happened, that she’s been fucked so good and that’s why she can barely walk.
She moans and does her best to keep it low enough only for him to hear, but he sees right through it, thrusting harder, deeper, grunting every time the tip of him reaches that fleshy spot inside her. Soon enough, she can’t help the sounds escaping, can’t begin to care if they get caught because he feels so…fucking…good.
“More. Harder, Ted,” she barks out, chasing another orgasm.
He chuckles a little breathlessly into her ear, teeth nipping there. “Gotta brace yourself better than that if you want me to go harder.”
He doesn’t have to tell her twice. She makes sure her hands wrap around the railing more firmly, pushing back against him with more strength. In response, he pounds into her with abandon, with so much force that for the first time in her life, she wonders if she’ll be strong enough to hold on. Her arms quiver with it but to be fair, if the railing breaks and they topple over and down to their deaths, it’ll make for memorable headlines.
Couldn’t Lasso This One, or Gaffer Shags Owner to High Heaven, both have a nice ring to them, after all. Her brief distraction ends with Ted’s low growl into her neck and one of his hands moving to pinch her clit. She lets out a shocked yelp, clenching around his cock.
“C’mon, now. I need the good people of Liverpool to hear you scream my name.” Right as he says it, he drives into her sharply, the sound of their skin slapping, the sound of her wet cunt swallowing his cock the only thing she can hear. With one hand still gripping her hip, he wraps his other arm around her waist, giving him even more leverage and putting pressure on her front wall from the outside.
“Ted, oh god,” she moans, louder than ever, trying to thrash at the utterly wonderful brutality of his thrusts, but unable to move from away.
“That’s right,” he praises, practically ramming into her as a reward. “Again.”
“ Ted,” she practically mewls, feeling her arms start to go numb from the sheer force of his movements, from having to hold herself up.
“You’re doin’ so good, Rebecca,” he pants. The sound of her name on his lips makes her want to do bad things to him…but not now, only when he’s done taking her apart. “Takin’ me so well, sweetheart.”
His thrusts are harsh, on this side of painful right until his rhythm starts to falter, but she’s so close and she really needs to come again. She goes to touch herself, hopeful having only one arm to hold herself up will be enough, but right as her hand is about to make contact with her cunt, right as she’s about to let her finger flick her clit, Ted swats her hand away and spanks her.
It’s only a split-second thing of sensation, but the way it sends shivers down her spine, the way she whimpers, the way she practically clenches around him like a bloody vice, is almost enough to take her over the edge. She’s ready to beg, barter, do practically anything so he’ll let her come, but Ted speaks before she can do or say anything embarrassing.
“I said I’d take care of you. Did ya think I wouldn’t follow through on that?” he practically growls, bringing her up right against his chest, pressed solidly against his front, his teeth suddenly digging into her shoulder through the fabric of her blouse.
He’s still buried inside her but not moving, keeping her tightly pressed against him as his shallow breaths coat her skin. Rebecca shivers, the contrast of his warm breath and the chilly air keeping her teetering on the precipice. She’s so ready for him to fuck into her, to finish her off right here like he promised, but instead Ted wraps both arms around her and shuffles her inside.
“What?” she babbles incoherently.
He likely assumed she was chilly, but she doesn’t mind stepping indoors, if only so she doesn’t need to worry about spying neighbours and passersby. And to be fair, her legs are trembling, barely supporting her weight, and her arms were truly beginning to tingle with numbness.
Without a word, Ted proceeds to disrobe her entirely, throwing her blouse and bra with his own clothes as he sheds them. He crouches to help her remove her heels then he stands before her, both of them finally naked. They stand in front of each other for only a second before he pounces again, kissing her thoroughly enough to have her paw at him, her nails digging into the skin of his back and making him hiss.
He helps her lie down in the middle of the bed, gently tracing her nipples before he moves on top of her and sucks on them not-so-gently. She can’t complain as he uses his teeth and fingers to pinch, surely leaving marks everywhere on her skin. She’s proven she likes a bit of a rough touch, but he makes sure to keep using his mouth to lick and suck and give pleasure, parting her legs with his free hand.
She’s thrashing, unable to form thoughts, especially as his mouth delivers the same assault to her neck before he wraps his hand around her throat, barely squeezing, forcing her to look right at him.
“Get onto your stomach.”
She nods, already practically drooling at the thought of how his cock will impale her from this angle.
He enters her swiftly, bottoming out with a slowly exhaled groan, like the vice grip of her cunt is a relief.
He adjusts the angle by lifting her enough to slip a pillow underneath her hips, his hands so gentle as he starts thrusting in earnest. As he fucks her from behind, she realizes that a “non-respectful” fuck feels way more respectful than any other “respectful” fuck she’s had.
She arches her back and holds her ass up higher, leaving her face buried in the soft pillows as he plunges his cock so deep inside her, she feels breathless with it.
Ted seems to gather she’s getting close again, but this time, his hand cups her cunt before she can do it herself - or worse, beg for him to touch her. He flicks her clit with his finger, finding a rhythm with it and his hips’s movements, leaving her a hot, whimpering mess.
She’s never been fucked stupid, but this might just be what it feels like. She can’t think, can only focus on how wonderful it feels not to think. How wonderful Ted feels, driving inside her like he was made to fuck her. She feels like she’s floating towards an inevitable outcome, her mouth stretched open to pull in desperate breaths. Ted feeds her two of those long fingers without a word, groaning loudly when she sucks on them like she would his cock.
“Come for me, Rebecca,” he orders.
And as if her body is totally attuned to his command, she comes with a violent shudder, biting down on his fingers, her cunt fluttering around his throbbing cock, making him grunt, hopefully sending him tumbling over into his own bliss.
He thrusts a few more times, milking her orgasm out of her in a way that leaves her tingling from head to toe, in a way that makes her vision white out.
She feels him pull out and hears his hand flying on his cock, his ragged breathing and low moans telling her plenty. She wishes she was strong enough to sit back and look at him, watch him come, watch how beautiful he looks as pleasure overtakes him, but she can barely feel her limbs.
Instead, as his hand loudly gains speed, as his grunts leave his mouth with haste, she asks for only one thing.
At least, she hopes she’s asking for it. She doesn’t think she can speak, she’s been fucked so incoherent. “Paint me with it. Please.”
She’s so lost to what she’s feeling - to the way her body sags, to how magical it feels to come this hard, to how her cunt still flutters with delight - that she can’t know for sure whether he’s heard her. Stars cloud her vision, but soon, she feels spurts of hot come right onto her lower back.
Keeley talked about being fucked into subspace over lunch with her once, not a care in the world about the fact that they barely knew each other. She thinks this might be it, that she might be experiencing it right now, even as she dithers internally about what it may or may not feel like.
As she floats, she wonders: is this what being fucked right feels like?
She barely registers Ted falling down next to her, hot blood still rushing through her ears, but her vision does start to clear. She can make out his form facing her as he buries half his face in the pillow next to her. With only half a face - and only one eye to survey - she realizes there’s no regret or shame for what they’ve just done. From either of them. There’s only this quiet understanding that they both needed this.
“Welcome back, darlin’,” he croaks out, his voice rough.
Ted moves closer, the sweat on his chest glistening in a way that is far too enticing. He slowly drags his fingers over her spine, ghosting a few careful touches before tracing a smiley face in the come he’s spilled on her back. It makes her unleash a giddy-sounding giggle. She feels drunk. She knows she’ll have to get up and wash herself off, it’s bound to be crusty soon enough, but she’s content to let him do this, let him trace little smiley faces in his come, as she grins like an idiot.
Still, he doesn’t look away from her face, answering with his own smile, and she finds herself unable to break free from his gaze.
Ted is certainly cautious with his touches, but she can’t detect any hint of hesitation.
She’s glad. She doesn’t regret a thing, and she thinks this is his way of telling her he doesn’t either. He traces a heart after some time, which makes her laugh heartily.
After all they’ve done, after letting her see this darker, more demanding side of him, he’s still the cutest, most adorable man ever.
Ted joins her, full-on giggling with her. Though there’s barely any tension, any remnant of it leaves with their shared amusement.
Ted caresses her back, propping himself up with his elbow to look at his art. “Aw, shucks. Made a real mess of you.”
She can’t help but smile wider. “Mm. Thank you.”
He chuckles. “Don’t think I’ve ever been thanked for fuckin’ the daylights outta someone before.”
“Maybe you’ve just been with the wrong people,” she replies instantly, realizing a tad too late this could be the wrong thing to say, especially considering the papers she saw on the desk next to the door.
But Ted just grins wide, his eyes sparkling fondly, none of their previous stormy darkness staring back at her. “Whaddaya say? Wanna hop in the shower with me?”
She shakes her head and pouts. “I’d love to, but I can’t,” she admits. When his face drops, she instantly reassures him with the truth. “I can’t feel my legs.”
Ted bites his bottom lip, flashing her a smug smile. She recognizes that look instantly. It’s the same one he sports when she moans around a bite of his delicious biscuits.
“Proud of yourself, aren’t you, Coach?”
He leans in, closing the distance and kissing her cheek. “Very much so…” he replies, promptly getting up. “Hang tight, princess.”
She huffs at the nickname and watches him leave, admiring the view. His arse, his back, his calves, the way his shoulders move as he walks. He’s delectable. She hears him fiddling with something in the ensuite and then she gets to gaze at his broad chest, his toned thighs, his slight tummy, his still half-hard cock - Jesus Christ, it’s big, how the fuck does he walk with that thing between his legs?.
Recognizing the thirst in her thoughts, she wonders how it’s possible that scratching that particular itch didn’t help one bit. She still wants him. Still finds him endearing and attractive, and she still –
Ted sits next to her still lying flat on her stomach, cleaning her up with a warm flannel and the gentlest of touches. He washes her cunt before he dabs at the come on her back, ever caring and conscientious.
It dawns on her then that Ted is many things, and though he can definitely fuck her into the mattress, though he can paint her with ropes of his come, his manners are never far behind.
“Such a shame to disturb my art,” he says teasingly, making her laugh.
“It’s a shame you didn’t come inside me, but it didn’t feel right to –” she begins, only to be interrupted.
“Well, there’s always next time,” he replies, patting her back and discarding the washcloth when he’s satisfied with how clean she is. As if there’s nothing that would keep them from having a next time. She feels her cheeks warm, but isn’t opposed to a next time.
Ted touches her tenderly and kisses every inch he’s surely marked with his teeth. The fact of the matter is, whether his come is on her or not, she’s still his work of art, given the bruises he surely left, and the way she feels sore down to her very satisfied core.
The thought almost brings tears to her eyes, in combination with how caring and thoughtful he is, especially after the act.
She’s quite happy to float in this space where she feels cared for, but when Ted plops down next to her, face buried in the pillow and looking at her, she senses his unease. He turns onto his back, staring intently at the ceiling.
Much like earlier in the karaoke bar, she feels rather than sees when something is starting to overwhelm him. He did talk about a next time, and she was so lost in how he marked her as his tonight to even respond.
Fortunately, Rebecca has regained enough sensation in her arms to hold herself up again, and she doesn’t think about it before she wraps him in her arms and drapes herself over him, smoothing her finger over the line of his brow and kissing it softly.
She senses there’s something weighing on him, evident beyond his silence, prompting her to ask without hesitation, hopeful that he’ll open up to her:
“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”
As she gently combs her fingers through his hair, she observes the flutter of his eyelids. She makes a mental note to remember he likes this for future use. A fleeting confusion flashes across his gaze, lasting only a moment before he surrenders to her embrace, allowing himself to relax and enveloping her in his arms.
“Was I too much?” He pauses, looking away. “Am I too much?”
Rebecca gently cups his cheek, coaxing him to meet her gaze. “You’re just the right amount for me, just as you are,” she says sincerely.
He takes a moment to process her words, drawing patterns on the parts of her he can reach. She thinks she might have gone too far, said too much herself, but then he grins at her in the most endearing manner before closing the distance between them, planting a sweet kiss on her lips.
Rebecca kisses him with as much care as he shows her, overwhelmed by how much she still wants him, wants this. After trading a few more kisses, she finally rests her head on his heart, wrapping an arm around his waist, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a lulling symphony against her cheek. She tangles one leg between his, the warmth of his naked body so utterly wonderful against her own. She plays with his chest hair, littering his skin with kisses when she feels like it.
He isn’t tense or rigid; in fact, he seems perfectly content just being there with her. He gently squeezes her upper arm before allowing the tips of his fingers to dance lightly on her back, resting his chin on top of her head.
“I, uh… How would you feel about doin’ this again?” he asks tentatively.
“I’ve been thoroughly plowed. I don’t think I can –”
He huffs, cutting her off. “I meant later, Boss,” he says, his tone amused, but filled with hope.
She knows she should refuse, with her scheming and his impending downfall looming over them... But something inside her tells her that this is one of those moments in her life where she simply can’t say no.
To be fair, even if she wanted to decline, her mouth moves before her brain can catch up. “Well, I mean – yes. We could,” she replies, unable to resist.
Guilt rears its ugly head, but she resolves to confront it at a later time.
He moves slightly, and she detects his inclination to meet her gaze, prompting her to adjust her position so that her pale green eyes can melt into his hazel browns.
“Meaning... you’d be alright with it remaining on the table even after we leave Liverpool?” he asks, his uncertainty causing a pang in her chest. “Not just one next time, but a few?”
To be fair, her traitorous heart - body, her body - she already desires more than just a few, but she responds simply, “Yes,” she says with conviction, knowing he’ll discern her sincerity.
He’s had a knack for reading her since day one, so there’s no doubt he’ll recognize her honesty.
“Hmm. Good to know.”
Ted shifts them in bed so that he’s spooning her, pressing kisses against the back of her neck and muffling a yawn into her hair. “Just so you know, you’re gettin’ in that shower with me in the morning even if I have to drag you in there myself. You sleep tight now, Boss.”
“Please, do drag me in there by yourself. I’m heavier than I look,” she jokes, fully aware that she'll follow him without any objection, unless he decides to wake her up at the crack of dawn.
He leans over her, one eye cracked open to peer down at her. “You kiddin’ me? I just about wrangled you like a prize steer, you’re light as a feather.”
She flushes and he chuckles, hunkering down behind her again. Without him looking at her, she bites her lip around a smile, relishing the way he didn’t tease her about her weight, and at the sensation of his chest against her back. She lays her hand atop his, pressing her palm flat against the back of his hand as she intertwines their fingers.
Ted leans heavier into her, pressing kisses onto her shoulder with a deliberate slowness, as if savoring the taste of her skin. She senses his drowsiness in his movements though, the gentle brush of his mustache against her back the only indication that his mouth is on her skin as he falls still.
Rebecca smiles fondly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Sweet dreams, darling.”
They don’t discuss any rules, nor do they delve into whether this should have happened or not. There’s no conversation about what this means, or whether they should share the same bed tonight.
They don’t talk, and yet, all she knows is that when she wakes in the morning, hopefully surrounded by his limbs and his scent, ready to head to the shower with her gaffer, she’ll already look forward to each one of their next times.