I Am So Excited About This New Story By Cait!

CAIT!!!!! Sex twice in a chapter!!

arranged: pt. 8 (detained)

arranged - pt. 8 (detained)

mafia!Chris Evans x Female Reader

Series Summary: Living in this life, you’ve never gotten to have much say in anything. What you wear, who  you hang out with, and now, who you marry and you’re dreading your arranged marriage to the Italian mob boss, Chris Evans. Expecting to suffer through a life of abuse while being kept under lock and key, you’re pleasantly surprised when Chris is nothing like you expected. He’s the most feared man on the East Coast, only brought to his knees by one thing and one thing only. You.

Warnings: language, alcohol, arranged marriage (chris’s family signs contract with readers family that promises their first born daughter to their first born son), parental abuse mentioned, age gap. Reader is 25, Chris is 35. Guns, violence, blood. Lots of smut (18+ only, minors DNI) and angst. 

A/N: the amount of feedback i’ve been getting on this series is blowing my mind. I love ya’ll, SO MUCH! Special shoutout to @blizzspeaks and @tis-thedamn-season again! This story wouldn’t be the same without your help.

W/C: 10.4k

Italian and Italian translation in italics. Disclaimer - I am not Italian and do not speak Italian, if there is something wrong or something not phrased correctly, PLEASE CORRECT ME! Huge shoutout to @chaelle for helping me with the italian translations :)

likes, reblogs, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated! ❤

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JOIN THE TAGLIST HERE (i will not be going through comments or reblogs anymore for tag requests)

Fucking cliches. 

There you were, standing in the rain, black umbrella shielding you as it poured down around you. Your heels were starting to sink into the loose, muddy dirt as you watched your fathers casket being lowered 6 feet into the ground. Of course it was raining at this fucker’s funeral. 

Maybe it was metaphorical. The sky was shedding all of the tears that you couldn’t. The sky cried for the man you couldn’t give two fucks about. A man most people couldn’t give two fucks about. You rolled your eyes at your aunt who wailed as his casket was lowered, trying to remember the last time they even saw each other before his death. It’d been at least 7 years. 

If memory serves correctly, the last words they’d spoken were: “Ah, fuck you, bitch.” and, “You’re a piece of shit, Y/F/N.” Then radio silence. For years. 

Her 6th husband had his arms secured around her waist, holding her up as she feigned grief, making you roll your eyes again. 

Your mother told you at your grandmother’s funeral years ago that rain was ‘the heaven’s way of cleansing and washing away all sins of the deceased’. You hoped she was wrong because this fucker deserved the spot he had reserved for him in Hell. Right next to Satan himself. 

 Shifting on your feet, you pulled the heels out of the mud and let out a sigh of disappointment, “Fucking mud is ruining my shoes,” you whispered, Chris’s arm secured around your waist, keeping you close. 

He smirked, “I’ll buy you a new pair.” 

Your eyes rolled again, “Ruining a perfectly good pair of shoes for no fucking reason.” 

His smirk stayed plastered on his face as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your temple, “I think you’re supposed to be sad, Y/N.” 

“I am,” you deadpan, “About my shoes.” 

Keep reading

Tequila Sunrise 1

Warnings: age gap, power dynamics, creep behaviour, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

ft. Cole Turner, older!reader

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

You need this. For all the stress of your life, not to mention the added chaos of planning the getaway, you the week to be decent. No, not just decent. It has to be absolutely amazing. You haven’t spent so much time, money, and energy getting this all together for it to just be acceptable. 

You make yourself stop gritting your teeth, a bad habit your dentist and doctor both reproach you for. There’s also that pesky blood pressure issue and the stress headaches. That’s why you’re desperate for this. It’s not just a girls’ weekend, though none of you are really ‘girls’ anymore, it’s a therapeutic detachment from reality.  

For the next seven days, you are not a manager, you are not an ex-wife, or a middle child. You are on vacation. From all of it, from all of them. 

You’re the first there. That’s typical. Mandy rarely shows up within the first hour of a dinner, Jamila always runs in breathless saying she was somewhere important, Soo cancels more often than she shows, and Elaine is usual right on the dot. 

You made the booking, you have all the confirmations; you’ve checked, doubled-checked, and triple-checked and your early arrival is the very reason. You follow the automated voice of the GPS down the country road, your destination just ahead of you. Jamila found the airBnB online. It had rave reviews and you weren’t into a resort with all the young toned bodies or a beach house with sand blowing in from the beach. 

Maybe it’s age, maybe you’ve always been boring, but the farmhouse getaway sounds about your speed. You trust that you’ve brought enough wine and snacks to see you through a relaxing but rustic reprieve. You steer up to the wooden gate in the farmhouse style, the sort of vintage piece you see in films, and stop. 

You lean forward and tap your phone, leaving it on the dashmount as you flip through the app. The entry instructions... ‘honk’. What? 

You sit back and lay your palm gently on the horn. You don’t think you’ve ever actually used it. You put your weight into it and the blare makes you yipe and retract your arm. You sit there and idle just outside the gate. 

Should you get out and do it yourself? The latch looks easy enough. 

Before you can muster your courage to let yourself in, a voice calls and a man catches your sight with a waving hand. He runs down, his flannel shirt billowing open around a ribbed tank top. A tuft of sandy hair sticks out awkwardly at his crown and his jaw is dusted with heavy stubble. He’s about a decade younger, at least, and shows it. 

“Hey,” he calls out as you roll down your window. 

He unlatches the gate from the inside and lifts it as he pulls it open. He smiles as he steps back and waves you through. You slowly roll forward and stop just beside him. 

“Am I in the right place? I have a booking for a farmstead?” You ask. 

“That’s me,” he grins, his blue eyes sparkling as he bends to look you in the face, “you’re just going to wanna pull all the way down,” he points and looks after his hand, “you’ll be staying in the guest house. It down the other end of the property. Secluded so you don’t need to worry about me.” 

“Oh,” you try not to show your concern. That wasn’t in the listing. It’s supposed to be a girls’ weekend, not a supervised outing. 

“Your family following you up?” 

“Pardon?” You keep your foot on the brake. 

“Yeah, I saw the booking for five. You must have quite the clan.” 

“Uh, no, my friends,” you explain. 

“Oh, well I hope you ladies have a good time. I’ll just grab my truck and follow you down. Straight shot, just keep going down the road. You can’t miss it. I’ll be right behind you to show you around.” 

“Mm, okay,” you agree dully. “Thanks.” 

“Cole,” he offers his name and hand, and says your name in return, “that’s you, right?” 

“Yep,” you answer. Definitely the right place. 

“I’m just around in case there’s any issues. Maintenance or whatever. Swear, you’ll hardly even know I’m here. I’ll be around the main house,” he looks behind him at the large farmhouse, “guest house is way better. Fully updated. Oh and I just redid the bathrooms.” 

“Oh, sounds great, the pictures looked wonderful,” you give a fragile smile, “so, uh, straight ahead?” 

“You got it,” he slaps the top of the car and keeps his hand there. His chest hair peeks out from under the tank as his neck tendons clench, “take it slow. I can’t lose any more chickens.” 

“Oh my,” you grimace. 

“Uh, yeah,” he laughs, “sorry, kinda grim. Well,” he pushes himself straight. His tank is almost transparent with sweat as it clings to his stomach, “I’m sure you’re dying to get settled.” 

“Yeah,” you agree and turn your sights ahead of you. 

He steps back and you ease onto the gas. As you clear him, he’s running off across the grass. He has a lot of energy. It’s the perfect contrast to your complete lack of. 

You keep your eyes straight ahead and follow the worn and weathered tire tracks. Your car jostles with the lumpy ground and you stay alert for any feathery creatures wandering around. Maybe it isn’t the ranch house paradise you thought but it’s still palatial. You won’t care much once you have some wine in you. 

Also when you do a signing I’ll be one of the first in like to get it 🤩🥰🤩

Wait, hold on you’ve written like 99k words for this fic. Bestie that’s a whole book!!! Thank you so much for sharing TBB with us. Petition for you to publish it in book form with an alternate ending… or, OR! You could not post the ending (last one or two parts) and then just have us wait for the book to come out. 👀

I would LOVE to turn this into a book, honestly. But i think people would come for my head if i waited until it was a book to post the ending 😂

I can’t wait to see a if you do a little Drabble of Chris trying to work out and Dodger messes him up!

arranged: pt. 9 (a fresh start)

arranged - pt. 9 (a fresh start)

mafia!Chris Evans x Female Reader

Series Summary: Living in this life, you’ve never gotten to have much say in anything. What you wear, who  you hang out with, and now, who you marry and you’re dreading your arranged marriage to the Italian mob boss, Chris Evans. Expecting to suffer through a life of abuse while being kept under lock and key, you’re pleasantly surprised when Chris is nothing like you expected. He’s the most feared man on the East Coast, only brought to his knees by one thing and one thing only. You.

Warnings: language, alcohol, arranged marriage (chris’s family signs contract with readers family that promises their first born daughter to their first born son), parental abuse mentioned, age gap. Reader is 25, Chris is 35. Guns, violence, blood, angst, fluff, alcohol

W/C: 6k

Italian and Italian translation in italics. Disclaimer - I am not Italian and do not speak Italian, if there is something wrong or something not phrased correctly, PLEASE CORRECT ME! Huge shoutout to @chaelle for helping me with the italian translations :)

likes, reblogs, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated! ❤

series masterlist

time-for-a-lullaby masterlist

JOIN THE TAGLIST HERE (i will not be going through comments or reblogs anymore for tag requests)

“Please?” you begged, your lower lip pushed out in a pout, “I need this. We need this.” 

Chris cocked an eyebrow, taking a deep breath as he rested his hip against the kitchen counter. He narrowed his eyes for a second, shaking his head, “A party?” 

You closed the distance between the two of you quickly, resting your hands on his crossed forearms, “Nothing crazy! Just– you know… the families… some friends. I mean, you know…” 

“Everyone?” He chuckled, finishing your sentence. 

It’d been almost two weeks since the FBI raided your home, leaving everything a complete disaster. Chris was adamant you stayed in the hotel until everything was finished, insisting that you’d been through enough and didn’t need to see the house in the state that it was in. The Four Seasons was nice, but it wasn’t home and you were beyond ready to return to a somewhat normal schedule. Today was your first day back and instead of settling and relaxing, your mind immediately went into ‘party’ mode. After the craziness of the past month or so, you needed it. The families needed it. Your fathers betrayal was driving a wedge between everyone and this could be a good way for everyone to remember that we’re all in this together. 

Gina and a couple of her friends worked day in and day out the entire time you were gone to get everything back in order, restocking the fridge, the pantry, and all of your baking essentials. Every book was placed back onto its rightful shelf, your old furniture was hauled out and replaced by a brand new version of itself, everything was organized and perfect. She deserved another raise. 

Seb, Russo, and Romano coordinated a sweep for bugs, finding one in the kitchen and one in Chris’s study, both were promptly removed and destroyed, but it was evident that Chris was on the FBI’s radar and that wasn’t changing any time soon. Tony was still on the outs and he wasn’t happy about it. He’d been by the house several times to try and talk to Chris, but he didn’t trust him. Chief Anders swore up and down he wasn’t tapped, but still, Chris told you of his reservations and told you not to let him in the house if he wasn’t home. 

Things were… complicated right now. But in a way, it felt like a fresh start. Your father being dead was a fresh start. For everyone involved in his web of lies and bullshit. A party was a great way to bring everyone together again.

Keep reading

Mmph, my🐱

Because this is how he’s gotta be looking at you when you’re at a neighborhood block party, right? After he sees you happen to have charmed the very shy little two year old girl who lives three doors down from you. Her four year old brother is shepherding both you and the little girl who won’t let go of your hand around to get snacks, play on the swings, and back and forth from the play room of the house throwing this get together.

He can see it.

American pie, white picket fence dream.

(Better put this behind a read more for some breeding and some questionable consent…)

You’ve already fooled around a bit. Not the first few weeks as the new couple in the neighborhood, but this week the proximity finally caught up in a moments of weakness that finally coincided for both of you. He knows you’re not a prude, but without a need to even discuss it, you had drawn a nice, comfortable line between the two of you. The logical thing if you’re going to play house to spy on the neighbors for as long as it takes to get their secrets. Both of you are such professionals it’s why he had no qualms taking this unconventional approach with you.

But then one late night less than a week ago…

And with the damn broken, it seemed a shame to waste a good thing.

He is on you the second he closes and locks the front door that night. It’s a kiss to consume you, and you half moan, half giggle when he presses you up against the wall and grinds his erection into your stomach. He’s a quick study and he’s already figured out enough ways to turn your brain off.

When he pushes you down to your knees, you go eagerly, and you unzip his pants and take his cock out without instruction.

He enjoys the warmth of your mouth until the saliva is dripping sloppily out of your lips and he can see you’ve finally slipped one hand down beneath your skirt to touch yourself.

That’s when he pulls you off, and in one swift moment raises you back up, twists you around, and shoves you against the wall. He flips up your skirt, pushes the wet gusset of your panties aside and sheathes his cock in you in one full thrust. You were wet for him, but not stretched, but you’ve already confessed that you don’t need him to prep you every time, that sometimes you like the pain of it, if being split open by his thick cock.

He can hear how far gone you already are in the baseness of your moan, which is perfect, because a couple of times you’ve let him fuck you a couple of times without a condom already, but he’s not pulling out tonight.

You realize that a moment too late.

In the throes of your first orgasm for the night, he continues pumping, he twitches inside you, and you try to move your hips, but he pins you and keeps thrusting.

“Steve, you need to - ”

“I need to fill your sweet cunt and see your belly swell with my children, sweetheart.”

You gasp and then cry out.

“What I saw tonight? You with those kids? Too sweet to pass up.”

He keeps thrusting until he’s spilling his hot seed in your womb, and he taps your needy clit to pull another short orgasm from you and you whimper his name.

He will take you again on all fours on the hardwood floor of the entryway before throwing you over his shoulder and then taking you apart until you’re mindless and docile and pumped so full of his cum before midnight that it’s dripping out of you. It won’t matter because he’s got plenty more for you, and he will keep you full all night, fucking you a few times through the haze of your sleep. You won’t be able to move in the morning with your exhaustion, which will be perfect for him to go to the bathroom and flush your birth control away.

As for him? He can do this all day, as many days as it takes to root his seed in you and get you to see this his way.

He even thinks it could be easy to sway you into his fantasy.

Sure seems like it with how you moan and cry at first but with cries that turn to keening.

Um… happy accidental Sinday!

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

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@blizzspeaks Chris and the grapefruit!

Aww thank you!

the boston brute series: pt. 6 (don’t give up on me) - sneak peek

The Boston Brute: Pt. 6 - Don’t Give Up On Me (Sneak Peek)

Pairing: NHL!Chris Evans x Athletic Trainer!Reader (female character)

Summary: When you graduated from Northeastern University, you had your sights set on the West Coast. And then you were offered a position with the Boston Bruins Athletic Training Department. And then you met Chris. A 6′3″, ruggedly handsome hockey player dead set on making your life a living hell by pushing every button and getting on every nerve. Despite your obvious disdain for each other and the ‘No Fraternization’ clause in your employee contract, you’re drawn together in a passionate, fiery love affair that seems to burn everything in its wake.

Warnings: Angst, language. Chris being an asshole. Talk of Chris treating reader poorly. 

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All players and scenarios are made up completely. This story does not reflect things that actually happen in the NHL or with its players.

A/N: This next part is very angsty. Please do not read if you do not like angst. 

likes, reblogs, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated! ❤

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“What are you doing?” Chris stopped, turning to look at you. 

“My job.” 

His jaw flexed. “Do your job elsewhere.” 

God, this man is insufferable. “Jesus fucking christ, Chris. Let me in the goddamn room. My job is to make sure you don’t fall over, crack your head open, and bleed out on the bathroom floor. I know that for whatever reason you can’t stand me, but I could give two shits what you want. Do you seriously think I’m dying to sit in a fucking room with you after the way you treated me? Because the answer is no. I would rather pull my teeth out with pliers than spend one more minute with you. But I don’t have a fucking choice because it’s my job. So let me in the goddamn room.” 

Chris stared at you for a second, his shoulders dropping a tad. His face softened, making him look sad instead of pissed off, and for some reason it made you want to punch him even more. What right did he have to feel sad right now? “Did you– Did you sleep with him?” 

You scoffed. “That’s unprofessional and none of your business.” Your lips pressed together in a tight line, your pissed off expression unwavering. “Are you done?” 

“Are we done?” He asked softly. 

Taking a shaky breath, little hairline fractures splintered your resolve at the tenderness in his voice, but you still couldn’t just forget what happened and how he treated you. “There is no ‘we’, Chris.” You paused, tearing your eyes away from his and dropping them to the patterned carpet of the hallway, “Please don’t make this any harder than it already is.” 

Love it!

Dessert

Jake Jensen Smutty One Shot

Word count: 1,840

Bailey entered the apartment and set the groceries on the kitchen counter and called out, "Jake?" She shrugged and kicked off her tennis shoes and ventured further into the apartment as she heard Jake yelling from the computer room.

"Fucking noob. Go cry to your mommy."

She laughed as she pushed the door open to find him in his underwear, sitting behind his computer with headphones on his head, yelling at the screen. "Jake..." She approached him to lean down and press a kiss to his cheek as he pushed the headphones partially off one ear. "Almost done?"

"Yes, baby... 5 minutes."

She climbed onto his lap as he groaned, wrapping his arms around her waist to keep both hands on the controller. "How about now?" She pulled up the skirt of her dress to grind her pussy against his cock through their underwear.

"Bailes... baby. I'm trying to beat this kid..."

"You don't have to stop," she whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to his neck before nipping at his lobe. She pulled his lobe into her mouth as she felt his cock twitch under her.

"Oh, come on!" Jake yelled, causing her to jump slightly in his lap as he chuckled. "Sorry, babe." He adjusted the headphones on his head and tossed the controller onto the desk. He gripped her waist, keeping her on his lap as she tried to stand up. "Sorry kid. I'm gonna go fuck my girlfriend."

She giggled as he tossed the headphones onto the desk with his controller. "I have ice cream melting in the kitchen..."

"I don't need long, baby." He pulled the dress off her shoulders, hearing a rip.

"Jake!" She hit him in the chest as he smirked, biting down on her shoulder as she whimpered. "Bragging you don't need long isn't exactly a turn on..."

He chuckled, reaching down between them to pull his cock free. "Doesn't have to be slow to be good. I think you know that."

She leaned up, pushing her panties to the side to lower herself onto him. She whimpered his name softly as he groaned at the feel of her pussy squeezing his cock.

"Just hold on tight." He pressed a kiss to her collarbone, enjoying the feeling of her tightening around him as he reached up to squeeze her tits.

He placed a few smacks to her ass as she continued to ride him slowly. He pulled the top of her dress down to expose her breasts to him. He rolled her nipples between his fingers, bringing a low moan from her as he squeezed harder, releasing a flood of arousal onto him.

"Ah, fuck!" He slammed her hips down, making her gasp.

"That's it, Bailes. Take it deep." He rubbed his thumb over her clit as he took a nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue.

"Oh god..." She cried out, rocking faster and faster.

Jake gripped her hair tightly in his fist, watching her bounce up and down, moving closer to an orgasm. Her face was flushed, eyes closed as she threw her head back, calling out his name. He bit down hard on her other nipple, hearing her shriek in pleasure.

Her pussy tightened around him, milking his cock as she shuddered on top of him, her body quivering from her release. She collapsed against him, panting. "Holy shit... Jake..."

"What flavor ice cream?"

She giggled, evading his question, and locked her lips with his, wrapping her arms around his neck. Eventually, she broke the kiss and slid off his lap, letting her tattered dress fall to the floor. "Go put the groceries away while I change."

"Yes, ma'am," he responded with a playful salute before leaping to his feet as she exited the room ahead of him.

When she emerged from the bedroom, wearing only one of Jake's t-shirts, she discovered him perched on the kitchen counter, indulging in ice cream straight from the carton. She approached him, positioning herself between his legs as he fed her a spoonful of chocolate ice cream. "Ice cream for dinner?"

He nodded with a mischievous grin and offered another spoonful. "And you for dessert..."

She takes the ice cream from his hand as he frowns. "Why not dinner and dessert at the same time?"

"Wha--?" His eyes widen as she smirks, running away from him to the bedroom with the ice cream. "You dirty girl!"

She giggles as he bursts into the room and she points to the bed. "Lay down... no wait!" She hands him the carton of ice cream and grabs an old blanket from the closet to lay out over the bed. She takes the ice cream back from him with a playful smirk. "Ok, drop your underwear and lay down, big boy."

Jake complied quickly, dropping his underwear to the ground before laying on top of the blanket on his back. "Ready..."

Bailey set the ice cream on the side table and grabbed a blindfold from the drawer, handing it to Jake as he sighed, placing it over his eyes and laying back once more. Bailey grinned, grabbing the ice cream carton and kneeling on the bed beside Jake after removing her shirt, dropping it onto the ground.

He gasped softly as he felt her place the cold carton on his chest as his arms laid idly at his sides. "Bailes," he moaned softly as he felt her drag her thumb lightly over the tip of his cock as it twitched, half hard once more.

"Shh..." She scooped a large spoonful of ice cream out of the carton and set it on the beside table before dropping the ice cream on his chest. She chuckled as he gasped louder this time, biting his lower lip. She used the spoon to drag the ice cream along his chest and abdomen. She brought the spoon up to her mouth and licked it clean as Jake groaned in anticipation. She set the spoon to the side and moved to straddle his legs, leaning down to drag her cold tongue along the underside of his cock.

He gripped the towel under him, bucking his hips up as she moved to avoid his cock. Instead she dragged her tongue along the ridges of the muscles along his abdomen. He groaned as she crawled forward to his chest, dragging her tongue along his stomach, sucking up the melted ice cream from her path. She dragged her teeth back down his chest and stomach, leaving small bites.

She slid back up his body, gliding her wet pussy down over the head of his cock, teasing him. He clenched his fists in the sheets as she teased him again, sliding up and down his length. He moved his hands down to grab her hips, wanting to force himself inside her.

"Tut tut," she reprimanded, knocking his hands away from her as he groaned and slammed them back at his sides. "You want my pussy, don't you Jakey..."

He nodded at her teasing, inhaling sharply as he felt her drag her nails down his chest and stomach. "Bailes... please..."

"I love it when you beg," she breathed against his mouth, pulling back each time he tried to kiss her. "I think you can do better... tell me what you want, Jake."

"Fuck! Bailey!" He bucked his hips as she dragged her pussy along his shaft once more, causing precum to leak out the tip. "God... I need your pussy on my cock."

"Hmm..." She giggles, sealing her mouth over his, her tongue probing against his as she grinds her wet pussy over the head of his cock. She trailed kisses down his jaw and neck to his chest as he breathed heavily. "Say it..."

"I need your pussy, Bailes..." He growls as she grinds her wet pussy against him, pressing her clit against him.

"You mean like this?" She raised her hips and moved her pussy down the full length of his cock, moaning loudly as she began to ride him slowly, savoring the feeling of being inside him again. She rocked her hips slowly, grinding her clit against his pubic bone, listening to him moan as he held on tightly to her hips, begging for her to move faster.

"YES!" He gripped her thighs tightly, pushing her hips down onto him. She gripped his forearms tightly as she rocked back and forth, letting her walls slide down his shaft. "Bailey... baby... I need more."

She giggled, slowing her pace and continued to tease him by rubbing her clit along the ridge of his cock, raising herself only to drop herself back down on him, causing him to grunt. She grabbed his hands, locking their fingers as she held them above his head. "Who's in charge here?"

He struggled against her grasp for a moment before grinning. "You are."

"Now that's a good boy..." She continued to tease him, bouncing slowly on his cock.

"Fuck, Bailes..." He thrusted his hips up as she stilled, forcing a groan from him. "More... I need more..."

"Are you going to cum for me, Jakey?" She teased, continuing to tease him by grinding her wet pussy down on his cock.

"Please, Bailey... I need to cum so bad... please let me cum in you."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning in to bite his bottom lip gently as he continued to thrust his hips up towards hers. She ran her nails down his chest, stopping at his nipples, tugging at them roughly. She glanced up at him as she slowly rocked her hips, increasing the speed of her rhythm. She removed his blindfold before taking his wrists into her hands once more and forced them above his head, gripping them tightly together.

"Mmmm..." She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, tasting the remnants of her sweet ice cream as she released him from her grip. "Cum for me. Fill me up..."

"Bailey... oh god... I'm close..."

"Then take me, Jakey. Show me how much you love fucking me."

"Harder..." He begged, looking up at her as she smiled at him seductively. She obliged, beginning to rock her hips faster, hitting just the right spot as she ground her clit against his pubic bone. He felt her tighten around him as she reached her climax, moaning loudly as he continued to drive himself into her until he filled her with his cum. They sat there silently for a few moments, gasping for breath as she rested against his chest. Finally, Bailey looked up at him, kissing him softly.

"Good boy," she whispered against his lips before capturing his mouth with hers.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, lips locked, before Bailey slipped off of him and headed to the bathroom to wash up. When she returned, she grabbed the carton of ice cream from the bedside table and smiled at Jake. "Take a shower and I'll go make a proper dinner."

He grinned, leaping to his feet to pull her against his chest. "And then we can have dessert again?"

"If you're a good boy," she promised, planting a quick kiss on his lips as he released her.

"Yes ma'am." He winked at her before they parted, her toward the kitchen and him toward the shower. 

Find the ongoing story here: Haunted - A Jake Jensen Fanfic