Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s wrong, but I had to know the truth.

I slink into the convenience store with a quick smile for the elderly cashier and stalk to the back corner. Through the black rubber door is the walk-in fridge. Instantly, the cold, dark space calms my anxiety. I lean back against the cooler full of beer and drop my bag on the floor. It holds two changes of clothes and something much more dangerous.

Tora’s journal.

Everything about our relationship...no, friendship...umm, acquaintanceship is shrouded in secrecy. From the time I accidentally stole papers I thought were my own notes that ended up being the personal effects of a criminal who might be dead. A man whose best friend was tall, dark, and…

I hear the door jingle over the soothing hum of the freezers. A familiar, gruff voice makes the hair on my arms stand on end. It can’t be. How did he find me so quickly? 

Chest heaving, every breath is fast and over loud in my mind. My eyes dart for an exit I know won’t be there. I could hide behind the two crates of oranges, but if it’s him, I know better. I have to stand my ground and show strength. The will to fight solidifies like a stone in my chest.

I kick my bag behind the crates and step forward, hands balled into fists. Already, my face flames with unwelcome heat at the steady thumping approach of his heavy gait. Closer and closer. He pauses at the door, and my breath stops. Everything waits on his next move.

Long fingers slide through the doorway. As they pull open the barrier, Tora’s amber eyes are the first thing I see. That gaze, full of concern, makes my face go slack with relief. He’s not angry?

When he steps inside, the space feels less like a spacious, frigid sanctuary and more like a closet filled with sexual tension. It’s not only his huge body but his entire demeanor - in control and commanding. Instinctively, I want to concede to every demand, fall to my knees at his feet. My heart pounds harder, and the blush only spreads as his assessing gaze darts over me.

“Still with that fucking shirt, Bobby?”

I glance down at my shirt in confusion. Why Can’t Someone Else Just Do It? What the heck is his problem? “It’s my favorite sweatshirt.”

He steps closer, a smirk unfurling. His softness is my kryptonite. Rough fingertips ghost over my clavicle and my skin tingles. I stop from melting against him on a sigh. All I want is to believe what my stupid gut keeps telling me - that he has my best interest at heart.

But with everything between us - organized crime, the cops, and my job on the line - I have to know the truth apart from this sexual heat. Attraction is different than affection, and as hard as that is to reconcile to my cavewoman brain, I know it’s true in my liberated-modern-woman brain. I'm no virgin, but every moment with Tora is high definition, 3D, full color compared to my black and white, silent movie experiences with everyone else.

Remembering the journal I stole and realizing that based on his currently sweet demeanor he may not know I took it, my fists clench again. 

Surprise may be my only ally.

I lean into his chest, but reach for a beer bottle on a nearby shelf.

While he wraps his arms around my waist and sighs against my ear, I pull my arm back and crack him over the head.

Smack! Splash!

“Fuck!” he yells.

Liquid spills everywhere. The broken glass scrapes my skin but doesn’t cut. I use the moment of surprise to shove him against the nearby shelves, grab my bag, and run.

Run, girl, run.

A Caution-Wet sign blocks the front entrance, and the portly old man mops nearby. I dart to the other end of the store. There’s always a back entrance. Pushing through the door, I race down a musty hallway. The illuminated red Exit gives me a fresh burst of energy, and my feet pound toward it.

Just as the door gives way and I feel the warm sunlight on my skin, my body is dragged back.

Two huge hands grab my waist and spin me. My back thumps against the wall.

A different sun has me now - two bright golden eyes, fierce and cutting. The warmth of his body is as hot as a summer afternoon.

“Having a case of the Mondays I see.” That smirk returns, but his eyes have less affection. He’s confused. He should be.

“I-I’m sorry, Tora.” I go with denial. Play dumb. “I freaked out. Why did you corner me like that?”

“Funny story, I couldn’t find my journal. It has my to-do list, ya see. My neighbor tells me a busty brunette snuck out the window. Thought you might know somethin’ about it.”

I gulp and struggle, not willing to lie. My knee pulls up to try and get to his groin, but his hips twist just in time.

“That’s not friendly, Bobby.” He has me completely restrained, arms behind my back in one hand with the other gripping my hip. Leaning in, his warm, spicy scent hits me as he whispers in my ear, “I thought we were friends.”

I swallow and lick my lips, trying to recalibrate my thoughts. He caught me. I’m had. He’ll find the journal. Maybe try honesty? 

“We’re not friends, Tora, and you know it.”

His body tenses and rears back. Brows furrowed, his eyes grow wide with surprise and something else. Disappointment?

“There’s something more than friendship between us,” I continue. “It clouds my judgement. I can’t trust myself with you. I...I just needed to know the truth, what you really think, what you’re really doing…” My voice falters, trailing off before I say what I’ve been wondering for day... If you’re just playing with me, if this seduction is a larger con.

His teeth grind together, jaw clenching in such a way it makes my anxiety spike. He’d never hurt me, but I don’t know him well enough to guess what else he’d do.

He growls and says nothing, just lifting and throwing me over his shoulder. Walking away, he bursts through a side door I hadn’t seen and takes a dark stairway up and up. I grasp at his back, afraid of falling. He moves so fast.

“T-Tora...where are you taking me?”

“My place.” He spanks my ass hard, once on each cheek. “This is my neighborhood, sweetheart.” Four faster smacks. I’m twisting to get away. “I know every alley and hallway around here. You can’t hide from me.” Crack-crack-crack. Oh god, he’s really freaking spanking me. “You steal from me in my neighborhood?” 

I lose count as the spanking continues, grateful I’m wearing leggings and not a skirt. My ass is on fire, and I’m embarrassed it’s not the only thing. A warm tightness, an anticipation, grows in my stomach and further down. I can feel how slick I am when my legs jostle with each sharp impact. Just like I feared, I can’t trust my traitor body around him. My lady parts do the thinking. I’m panting and hot for him already. 

“Stop it, Tora!” I yell out, more from annoyance at myself than him. My whole stupid plan went to shit.

“You distrust me after all I’ve done to protect you?” He sounds genuinely upset beneath the calm and collected tone. 

“Like you trust me!” My voice echoes in the empty stairwell.

Five hard smacks land on my bottom, the most painful of all, but this time followed by silence. 

Like you trust me! My words rattle in my mind. The thump of his boots and his loud, even breathing are the only sound as he ascends another flight of stairs. 

A sudden blast of sunlight has my eyes squeezing shut, and my stomach drops as I’m upended. Tora pushes me against the door of what I know is his apartment, one hand holding my wrists hostage in front of me. His free hand grips on my chin, until I look up at him. Backlit by the sun, his perfect face and blazing eyes make me breathless. 

“I did trust you, and look where it got me.”

A messy lock of hair falls in front of his face, and for a moment I don’t see myself at the victim and him the captor, but the other way around. Could it be? 

My eyes swim with tears seeing the hurt in his gaze. He trusted me and I...stole from him, no better than a common criminal.

My mistake was bigger than getting caught. 

I broke Tora’s trust.

Like you trust me. Her panicked accusation hurt worse than it should, hit me like a brick to the face. I always fall too fast. I’ll never learn.

When I drop and pin her against the door, she yields, compliant. Pulling her chin up, those huge round eyes stare another hole straight through my heart.

“I did trust you, and look where it got me.” My voice cracks. Pussy ! I berate myself internally.

Those gorgeous brown eyes fill with tears. I can’t get enough of looking at her, but not like this. Fuck! That sweet innocence seems so sincere. I wish I could trust her. 

“Tora...I’m sorry.” She softens against me, no tightness in her arms or eyes. I should have seen that in the refrigerator earlier, but all I noticed was her blush and her cute ass body hidden under that ugly sweatshirt. “The journal is in the bag. I made a mistake.” 

Now we’re getting somewhere. She wants to talk? We’ll do more than talk. 

“Damn right you made a mistake, and now you’re gonna pay.” I release her jaw but not her hands, and open the door. I maneuver us both inside and kick it closed, double checking the lock.

I twist her around, that round ass digging into my crotch, and grip her chin again. I just want to master her, have my hands on her at all times. Top to bottom, I search her for a weapon. I’d never have thought her capable of it, but that bottle crashing against my head was a wakeup call. This woman is not only beautiful but dangerous. 

God, her body drives me crazy, every curve like it was molded to my own personal fantasy. She’s got nothing on her except that baggy shirt and leggings. I double check around her bra. Women can be tricky with hiding shit in there.

She gasps as I rough her up, and I can’t help but squeeze one of those big beauties and bite down on her neck. Her breathing hitches. My fingers have a mind of their own, seeking out a nipple and circling until it hardens. She rolls her sexy ass against me in answer. I growl and pay the other nipple the same attention. It hardens, even lengthens under my administration like it was made for me to master.

I growl and release her. In a fit of annoyance, I grab the top of her sweatshirt and rip it down the back. The harsh rending sound is music to my ears, soothing my desire for violence. I pull and tug until the shirt is ruined, then rip it off her arms. The fabric hangs limp in my hand. I need her bared to me, to see all the way down to the truth.

Poppy bites her lip and turns, stepping back until her ass bumps the couch and she stops. Panting, a blotchy blush stains her cheeks, down her neck, and across chest. Her gorgeous, heaving tits look ripe and ready for attention.

As she lowers her hands, I see the bra she wears is see through. It’s the last straw.

“Bend over the fuckin’ couch.” I take a deep breath and soften my tone. “Take your punishment like a bad girl.”

Her eyes widen. Everything goes silent. I breath in and out, waiting for a twitch of her eye, tension in her posture, any sign to her thoughts.

What I don’t do is question my instincts. I want to trust this woman. I want to believe in her, in the possibility of us, again so bad, but not after this morning.

She sucks in her lips and turns, bracing her elbows against the arm of the couch. Her leggings are nearly see-through, and the long crack of her gorgeous ass is the second most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. No, third. Her eyes. Her tits. Then, her ass. Close competition, but I know what I like.

When she looks back, my dick goes stone hard at her trembling smile. Her acceptance. At the same time, I know I need to tread carefully. She’s not one for these rough games, but I need to know where we stand. I peel off her leggings until she’s just in her bra and panties.

“What’s your safe word, sweetheart?” I slide my palm up the silky skin of her back, delighted at the goosebumps that chase my touch. “The word you say to stop everything in an instant. The word that keeps you in control?”

“Bobby.”

“Nope.” I smile only because I know she can’t see me. “Let’s go with Red. If you need to stop, say Red. If you’re feeling real uncomfortable, say Yellow, and we can take a break.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not joking. You’re in charge. What do you say to stop?”

“Red.”

“What do you say if you need a breather?”

“Yellow.”

My fingers skate across her bra clasp and around her side. I want to see her fully bare to me, but I leave it on for now, snaking around to uncup her heavy breasts so they hang free. Tight nipples poke down and I can’t stop from rubbing my palm against them followed by the lightest pinch. 

“Ready, sweetheart?”

She nods her head but doesn’t speak.

“Ya need to say Yes, sir.”

“Y-yes, sir.” She’s trembling but not tense. I know what she needs. Contact.

My groin presses against her ass, and I hover over her. I slide my grip around her throat, lightly holding just to test her reaction. A strong, solid pulse thumps against my fingertips on both sides of her neck. 

She’s alive and so am I. She has every ounce of my attention and I have hers.

I bite her ear. “Let’s begin.”

Leaning back, I find her ass already pinked up from her hallway spanking, but she can take more. I grab the long stretch of fabric from her tattered sweatshirt and use it as a sling around the front of her shoulders. Her hands twist to hold the top of it as I pull back and lift her front off the arm of the couch. She’s suspended in my grip, helpless and ready.

I spank her ass, firm enough to see the skin jiggle on each impact. Crack-crack-crack-crack. It goes on and on. Besides the loud, harsh sound, only the ticking of the clock and our breaths are audible. When I stop to take a breath and wipe the sweat from my brow, the outline of my fingers in her skin makes my dick twitch, like she’s branded as mine. Mine to reprimand. Mine to love.

Love? Fuck, I’m lost. Her beauty combined with this surprising submission is clouding my senses. She just stole from me and fought me like a wildcat. I firm up my grip on the sweatshirt fabric until her back arches into even more of an arc.

“I’m sorry, Tora. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t wanna hear you’re sorry. I wanna see it.”

I spank her for another round, harder this time, hitting the upper thighs until she’s gasping. But Poppy is a good girl, the best girl, and she doesn’t give me any grief. I watch carefully as her mind and body sink deeper into my care. 

I stop when her ass is a mottled dark red. Barely able to reach her toes to the floor, she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. 

God, she’s gorgeous. My free hand briskly rubs over her abused cheeks to soothe away the sting, enjoying the warmth I created there. 

“You did so well.”

She hisses, when my hand slips around to the front gusset of her panties. I stand directly behind her, and my rough jeans brush against her sensitized skin.

“Now, tell me why you stole from me.”

Her audible gulp makes me pause all movement and wait for an answer. I’m patient, even though I can feel her wet heat just under the fabric my middle and ring finger press against.

“I’m sorry, Tora. I just wanted to know the truth. If this...this…”

Her voice fades away. That won’t do. The real Poppy is finally talking, my angel, not that tough facade I encountered in the corner store.

“The truth?” I let go of the fabric scrap holding her up and wrap my forearm around her shoulders, lean closer until my lips ghost over her ear. Still, I don’t move my fingers down below. I need her mind working right. “The truth about what, sweetheart?”

She arches against me, twisting her head so one sparkling eye stares me down.

“If this is all a game. If this...” Tears threaten to overflow, but she exhales and continues, “If this seduction is just part of some larger plan. If I’m being played.”

“A game? Being played?” I have to repeat the words because they make no sense. My body runs cold, stomach churning with unease. I nuzzle my chin in the crook of her neck and slip my fingers under her pantyline, seeking out her arousal. The heat there gives me courage, seems to fill my whole body back up, from the outside in. “The only game here is you playing me like a fiddle with those beautiful eyes.”

She blinks, gaze darting over me as if unbelieving.

I try to pull her torso closer against me but I’m already stuck to her like glue, so I rotate my hips to let her feel the evidence of my arousal. “But I can’t say I blame you. I’ve been wondering the same thing, especially after that mean bottle to the skull. How did this devious woman con me into letting my guard down. You’re saying you aren’t seducing me? Conning me?”

I know it’s not true. She doesn’t have a devious bone in her body, but my own fear that she doesn’t care for me like I care for her is true enough.

“Of course not, Tora. I’m...I’m an amateur writer who wears pajamas in public. You can’t be serious.”

“You’re a fucking trickster goddess with a heart of gold and a body made for sin. Don’t you dare forget it.”

I pull away and she twists to follow, but I point at her. “Back in position. I’m not done with you.” I pull out the journal from her bag. “You can’t see how much I care by my actions, hmm? How I’ve tried to keep you out of the criminal underworld, not drag you into it?” 

I tear off my shirt, wanting, no needing to feel her skin on me right the fuck now. Her over the shoulder gaze on me feels as intimate as a caress. I take my pants off for good measure, so we’re even, both down to our underwear. 

“You said you want to see the truth?”

She bites her lip but doesn’t say anything, worry evident in her wrinkled brow. I waggle the leather journal at her. 

“You want to see this?”

She nods, a gentle shake of her head. I smack the journal on each butt cheek hard. The sound is dull compared to my bare hand, but the surprise has her yelping.

“Yes!” she cries out.

I smack once more with a tilt of one eyebrow. 

She grumbles, “Yes, sir.”

I flop the journal on the couch in front of her face. She’s only inches away and can inspect each page. I flip open the front page.

“What is it?” I unclasp her bra and her tits swing free. A fuckin’ revelation. I palm them both then slap lightly just to hear her gasp. “I asked a question, Bobby.”

She shakes her head and leans closer. “Ummm...It’s Quincey’s schedule and a to-do list.”

“Mmmhmm.” I lean back over her, my chest sliding over her warm skin. I hold her up with my forearm at the top of her chest. She grips me there and lets one arm down on the couch. My free hand slips straight into her panties. “Damn. You’re drenched for me. Only bad girls get wet from spankings, you know that?”

She huffs and wiggles against me.

“I like a little struggle.” I chuckle and inhale that earthy floral scent at her temple. “Flip the page.”

She reaches down and flips to the second page. My journal is nothing too special, but it’ll reveal more than she’s expecting.

“What’s at the bottom?” I ask.

It’s her name over and over, a series of poppypoppypoppypoppy . I’d be embarrassed by the obvious sign of my crush if I wasn’t in this exact position, with the woman of my dreams creaming herself under me. 

Two of my fingers press inside. I work her slow, reveling in the tightness and her gasping breaths. “What’s at the bottom of the page?”

“My name, but it looks like poopy poppy.”

I chuckle, surprised. Her responding laughter makes her Kegels to grip me, and I rock my dick against her luscious ass. “It does, doesn’t it? It makes me laugh everytime I see it, even though its more than a little fucking embarrassing.”

“Hmmmm. Not embarrassing.” She hums and pants, always so responsive when I work her over just right. I slide my fingers deeper, faster, three of them now, and rub the heel of my palm at her clit for the added pressure. My body surrounds her but I’m holding most of her weight. I hope she feels like she’s floating, like I feel when I’m with her.

“You make me laugh.” I bite down on her shoulder then lick away the indentation. Feeling her clench on me, I do it again and again. She’s really fucking close. “I’m happier with you that I have been in years. That’s not a game. And if I’m playing with you, it’s for keeps. Flip to the next page. Tell me what you see.”

She does. 

“It’s a...a list and, Oh... ” Her mouth parts in a perfect circle when she sees it. I’m no artist, but she knows. Her hips circle on me. The motion massages my cock and pushes my fingers deeper. “It’s a grocery list and two big eyes. Is that…?”

“Fuckin’ right. It’s your eyes, sweetheart,” I growl in her ear, and she twists to me with the most innocent look of wonder, like it comes straight out of her soul. “It’s you. All I want to see every day are those eyes lookin’ up at me.”

She groans and moves faster, frantic with want. 

Mine now. I think I have her with me, trusting me again. 

“Tora...Tora.” She braces both arms against the couch. The journal flips over to cover her hands. It bounces as she writhes against me, riding my hand. God, I wish my dick was inside her now, but I have time. I have all the time in the world for this woman.

“Come for me, sweetheart.” My fingers shuttle faster and I pluck her nipple. When I feel the early clenching, I pull out and strum at her clit, work it over hard. “I know you want to.”

“Sir, I’m close. Please. I’m sorry.” She’s a babbling mess, and I can’t get enough. “I need it. Please, sir.”

I grip her chin with one hand, lick up her neck, and tug at her clit until she’s thrashing. She’s close but after all that angst and punishment, she needs me to command her. 

“Come for me, now. Show me how much you love it.” The word love just comes out, feels right, and before I can doubt it she’s screaming. “Give me that beautiful body. Do you love it?” 

“Love. Tora...I love...I love,” she’s babbling again and it makes me crazy. My name on her lips as she comes is a song. “TORA!” 

She clenches long and hard, limbs shaking on a long groan. Satisfaction rushes through me, the heady feeling of power, knowing my control of her body, in that moment, is complete. 

I’m one step closer to owning her heart. 

It’s the only thing I want now.

Chapter Text

“You alright, sweetheart?” 

His breath hot on my ear brings me back from a daze. I’ve never heard his voice that soft. It wavers. Almost...almost like he’s scared.

Standing up, I cover myself as best I can with two hands and sink to a seat on the small couch. Down to just my underwear, I chew on my bottom lip as I finally get a look at his apartment. There’s...nothing here. A guitar, a single bowl, some free weights, and a video game console. He’s a gamer?

“God, I’m sorry,” his voice cracks. When I turn back to him, his eyes dart over me, wide and terrified. Sorry?

“Tora.” I swallow the lump in my throat, cataloguing the huge, beautiful tattoos on his shoulders. Dragon koi and peonies. There’s so much more to know about him. “It was-”

“Too rough! I didn’t pay close enough attention.” He falls to his knees in front of me, like a man at a holy altar. His mouth turns down in the most heartbroken expression.

My hands fall to his cheeks. “It was perfect. You paid more attention than I thought was possible.” I rub away the tight lines of tension between his brows with my thumbs. I don’t even care that my chest is exposed. I hate to see him so worked up after everything he did...everything we did.

“Ya sure about that?” His huge, rough hands knead at my calf muscles. “I didn’t take it too far?

“You couldn’t tell how much I liked it by my gibberish at the end?” All I remember saying was his name and love over and over. Dangerous, impulsive, but somehow...right. And he said he was playing for keeps, whatever that means.

“Gibberish.” He watches me, dazed for a moment, before a shuddering exhale. His head falls on my lap, cheek nestled against my bare leg as he hugs around my lower back. His fingertips dig into my skin.  

We relax, nearly naked, in silence. I let him be, softly tracing the beautiful dark lines of ink everywhere. Thick muscles cover his arms and back like a sculpture come to life. The Balthuman crest at his neck isn’t nearly as interesting as the others. Every tattoo is a revelation, revealing layers of him I haven’t yet understood. Underneath, I feel the ridges of scars. The art and damage on his body speak to his life in a dangerous world I know nothing about. And yet I don’t care about the things I don’t know anymore, not after what he showed me with his body, his words, and his journal.

He has a...fascination with me. My eyes are pretty and he wrote my name a bunch, like a kid in elementary school. Can a scary gangster really have a crush? The term seems too innocent for him. But then again, my own feelings are far from innocent. They seem to boil over every time we interact. It’s why I needed the journal, my desire to break the spell. 

He lays in my lap taking shuddering breaths. I finger comb through his hair and undo the tie holding half of his long hair up. My nails scrape over his scalp in circular patterns. 

“Bobby,” he groans.

“What happened to sweetheart?” I tease.

Eyes glittering with moisture and awe peer up at me. Every glance from this complicated man and I fall harder and faster. Each new layer I pull back reveals something new.

“Sweetheart.” His voice is barely a breath.

“That’s better.” I scratch harder at his head, like a puppy dog.

“How can you expect me to keep my head on straight with these beauties out calling for attention.” He pushes up and scrapes his lightly stubbled face across my chest, lifting one breast and nibbling the soft, pale skin. His lips cover a nipple and suck. Just like that, I’m firing on all cylinders again. My legs open as I arch back. Moving to the other breast, his fingers twist and pull at the first nipple, now wet and cold from his absence.

“Tora!”

Pop! He pulls away and smirks. “You need more, angel? Because I sure do.”

“I need you.”

His confident smile falls, a window into the fragile soul beneath. “Fuckin’ hell.”

In a flash, he picks me up and roughly twists to a seat on the couch with me astride his lap. My breasts shake, and I press closer, clinging to him like a spider monkey.

Seated, my panties, still soaked and warm from my mind-shattering orgasm, rub against the bulge of his cloth covered erection. We pant into each others faces, sharing a quiet moment. Nothing seems like it needs to be said anymore. 

This attraction between us, what we’d been flirting and fighting and crashing against for weeks really wasn’t just in my head. All the times he leaned close, held my hand on instinct, and protected me seemed to stack up and spill through a doorway the moment I leaned over his couch and accepted his sexual punishment. I deserved that to be fair, but I deserve this so much more. Something deeper with him. Something...forever.

“Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart.”

“Why not?”

“It gives me too much hope.” His hands press to my lower back as he grinds up against me. The friction is too delicious.

“Tora…” God, why can’t I string together useful sentences with subjects and verbs around him. All I can seem to pant is his name, over and over.

“I like my name on your lips.” He rubs my bottom lip with his thumb, and for no reason whatsoever, I bite it. I suck it. 

My tongue loops around the digit, watching him through my lashes. His lips part on a pained exhale. No other boyfriend ever made me feel like he does. What did he call me? A trickster goddess with a body made for sin?

They seem ridiculous descriptors for the Poppy I know. But what about the Poppy he knows? The one who sucks on his fingers like a lollipop, who leans over a couch and smiles for her spanking. For him, I could be her. Who am I kidding? I could be her for me, because I want to.

“You never cease to surprise me, sweetheart.” His other hand slides up my bare, sweat covered back, to the nape of my neck and grips the bottom of skull. “No more teasing your Tora now, hmm? Give me that mouth. A proper kiss.”

I sigh and lean forward, my mouth sliding over his. His tongue insists, and I relent. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I get as close as I can. Instead of the passionate kiss I expected, it’s more of a question. He sips at my lips, soft, so very soft for a man so large. But his urgency is still evident in the way he pulls me closer, his fingers tangling in my hair.

“You taste like strawberries,” he murmurs, tilting his head to the side to kiss me deeper.

I smile. He must have gotten the taste from the same lip balm I’ve used since high school. My hips circle on him and I know I’m still wet from the way the fabric slides around so easily. God, I’m ready for him, all of him, and only two pieces of clothing separate us. 

My soft to his hard is the most delicious contrast of opposites. We are two kindred spirits with nothing else alike but for some grasping urgency to come together. He curls over me as I melt against him. Our kisses grow heated, warm and wet, until I’m gasping for air.

“You give too much.” His strange statement combined with a hard stare catches me off guard.

“I give exactly what I want.” Yes I’m impulsive, but my heart is always in the right place and almost never wrong. I refuse to be sorry for being me. His gaze softens.

“It’s just...I’m not used to it, sweetheart. How open you are.” He gently pinches at the cheeks. He’s always pulling at my face like I’m a hamster. Drives me crazy.

“Ach! Stop that!” I shake out of his grip and his fingers fall to tracing the line of my clavicle. 

“Lemme do somethin' for ya. Want me to hurt your ex? That guy giving you grief about this gorgeous body? Make me your weapon.”

Whoa. I rear back. Where did that come from?

“Tora...I don’t want a weapon. You don’t have to do anything except…” I want to say love me, but it feels ridiculous. “If you care for me, that’s all I need. I don’t need you to do anything. What makes you think I’d want that?”

“I dunno.” His lips fall to my shoulder and kiss a long line to my ear then across my jaw. 

I lean back and let him until I realize he’s trying to distract me. “Do you think you’re only useful as a weapon? Even to me?”

“I mean...maybe. I'm an attack dog, always have been.” He shrugs, but his body is tense. “But I wanna do things for you. I guess I could...clean the dishes, buy you stuff, talk to ya landlord about a lower rent.”

Acts of service are a way some people show affection, so I hate to bite back against the idea, but there’s one part I don’t like. “You’re not a dog, Tora.”

His jaw rolls, like he wants to say something but stops himself. 

“I want you to see what you really are. A good man.”

“Good?” He closes his eyes and leans back. “I never felt good until I met you.” 

I want to cry for all the hurt I know must be in his past. Yet, despite it all, he turned out to be such a kind soul. My fingers rub at his tense jaw.

Blazing amber eyes open on me. I squeak as he stands up and walks across the room, kicking in the bathroom door and turning on the shower. The room is lit only by one small window high up on the wall, casting long, harsh shadows. He's a gentle-eyed beast in black and white. The space fills with the rushing sound of water as he sets me on the countertop.

“If you’d asked me for the journal I would have gift wrapped it. You can have whatever truth you need from me.” He drops to his knees and tugs off my panties, not breaking eye contact. “You light up my life. I don’t deserve you, but I can’t stop myself.”

“Of course you...ah!” All words flee when he spreads me wide and dives forward, licking at me without preamble. His tongue circles my clit slow. He stares up at me, so intense I know I’m flooding him with my arousal. After sucking me in, he pops off and rubs my clit.

My mind scrambles, and I’m blinking like an idiot.

“You didn’t even need my mouth did ya?” He licks his lips. “But I wanted a taste. Even better than all those wet dreams you put me through.”

I exhale in surprise at all this dirty talk and figure it’s my turn. “I want you, Tora. Take me.”

“I need to see you even wetter, sweetheart.” He stands and tugs off his underwear but I can barely get a look at his huge, bobbing dick before he’s picking me up again. “You okay with the shower?”

I nod yes at least ten times as he maneuvers us in. My legs around his waist take most of my weight, but he leans me against the shower wall and checks the temperature before turning the spray on my chest.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect.” His eyes rake over me. I guess I do kinda feel like a goddess in that moment, from frumpy to some kind of freshly spanked sex slave. What a difference a day makes.

“Not so bad yourself, handsome.” Was that too cheesy? One arm loops around his neck, while the other tucks some wet, loose hair behind his ear and follows the lines of his neck tattoo.

“I want in.” He pants, forehead pressed to mine. His hard length slides along my seam, making me gasp as it presses against my clit. “Let me in.”

That molten gaze tells me there’s more to his words. This is more than just sex. And I want him any way I can have him.

“I’m clean, if you’re worried.” He gulps and looks away. “But I can get protection. Just gimme-

“I’m clean too, and I want you. All of you.” I bite my lip and roll my hips forward, nudging his thick length in a couple inches. Oh dear, that’s tight.

“It hurts?”

I shake my head, licking the droplets of water of my lips, then leaning forward and licking his lips.

“Hnnnngh.” He presses forward, filling me with delicious intent, stretching and remolding me. I’m his now. “You want me? Now you have me.”

“Come inside me,” I whisper in his ear. He rears back, eyes bulging. Oh no! Did my attempt to be sexy not land right? “I-I’m on birth control.”

He thrusts in and out a few times, jaw clenched tight, but his searching gaze holds a question. I know what’s got him concerned.

“The birth control is for adult acne.” I blush and look away. This god of a man wants me, a not-so-thin, aspiring editor with nothing to show for myself. Even with him filling me, the doubt won’t seem to go away. He’s too perfect.

“Oi! Look at me.” His rasping voice full of command makes me clench around him. He chuckles low. “Ya like when I boss you around? Well lemme tell you something. You’re fuckin’ beautiful.” 

He kisses my cheek then my mouth in a long dance of tongues. His tempo picks up speed.

“Y-you’re beautiful too.” I say between hums and sighs. My body accepts him, snug but a perfect fit. I try to roll my hips but can’t get much movement held up against the tile wall like this.

He leans back slightly and rearranges my legs. Spreading me, his elbows hold my knees wide. Pumping faster, my breasts shake in small circles. It’s gratuitous. It’s lewd. And I love it. 

It’s not long before he grunts and drops to a seat on the wide edge of the tub. The shower spray is just a hot mist now, bouncing off the wall behind us. The small room steams up. Everything becomes a misty, warm haze. His hands grab me everywhere - hips, ass, breasts. All the doughy places I usually hide, he adores.

Even with him lodged inside me, I tuck a knee up on the wide ledge. The other leg finds footing on the tub floor. My fingernails find purchase in his back, and he pumps me up and down a few times.

“That’s it. Scratch me up. You’re a little tiger aren’t you?” His devilish smirk has me tightening around him. The smile tucks up higher.

“Unnnh. I thought you were the tiger.”

“Hmmmmm.” The purr on his lips trails from my temple down to my ear. “With you I’m just a harmless kitten.”

His cock pressing in and out, filling me, doesn’t feel harmless, but I’m not one to complain. I sink deeper, grind down on him. My breaths grow labored as I work to my own rhythm. “You’re still a beast. Don’t kid yourself.”

His chuckle seems surprised. “Whatever I have to be to get ya coming back to me...I’ll fuckin’ do it.”

He owns my body like it was made for him but somehow didn’t know...can't tell how I feel? I pull back a little to catch his gaze, and my voice comes out weaker than I want, “Is this casual for you?”

He pulls me balls deep onto him and rumbles, “This life is dangerous, Poppy.”

“Is that a yes? This is a casual thing?” I search his gaze - shining, golden, and inscrutable. I guess I have to be the brave one. Bracing a palm on his chest, his heart beats hard and fast at my next words, eyes growing wide. “It’s not casual for me, Tora.”

“Poppylan…Sweetheart…” His words fail as his mouth falls on mine and his thrusts grow short and deep, like he can’t bear to pull out.

His hair falls around me like a dripping, midnight curtain. Finally, his eyes open again, vulnerable and lost. Each word is deliberate. “This life is dangerous.” 

“I’m a big girl, Tora."

“I can’t keep you safe. Walking the streets alone, like a delicious little lamb, you’ll never be safe. But if anyone knew you were mine, you’d be in even worse danger. ”

"We'll figure it out together.” Mine. His. The ownership of me to him and him to me feels so right tears spring to my eyes. 

“Don’t be scared, sweetheart.” He grunts and rolls me in a circle on his lap. It feels different that way, so damn good. “I’ll be able to think straight when I’m not drowning in your beautiful fuckin' body.”

“I’m not scared,” I say, blinking away the droplets of water as they run down my face. I need to get it all out there. The truth. “I’m in love with you.”

“You love me?” His jaw clenches and face grows almost angry, but it’s not anger, is it? This is a passion I’ve never seen from a man before, the kind I’ve only dreamt about. “You can’t say things like that to me, Poppy.”

“You’re afraid it’s true? Or are you scared to tell me you don’t feel the same?”

“You gotta know that’s not it. I’m...I’m crazy about you. You’re all I think about. It’s dangerous.”

“It’s not dangerous to care about someone, Tora.”

“You make me weak, in a way I...I want to be. My chest hurts all the fucking time. My head pounds. I second guess everything I used to do without a second thought.”

“You make me brave. I still doubt myself, but less when you look at me like this, like...I can do anything.”

“Fuck, sweetheart. You can. You’re capable of fuckin’ anything. And whatever you can’t do, let me do it for ya.”

“I’m not letting you hurt anyone!” I point at him, and he laughs. We’re barely moving now, but he’s inside me. Where he’s meant to be. “I’ll let you help me only if it means you love me too.”

“Fuckin’ hell, Poppy. It was never fucking casual for me, sweetheart, not from the moment I laid eyes on you. Of course I love you. I’ve been in love with you for ages.”

I slowly grind on him, moving his impossibly thick length inside. After he spanked and licked and propped me up against the wall, it’s my turn. He belongs to me now.

“I don’t want you, Poppy. I need you.” His forehead presses against mine, snaking locks of long black hair stick to my skin. “I just thought you’d be safest if I could get out of your life.”

“You were wrong.”

He watches me with something akin to wonder but doesn’t say anything else, just shuttles my hips over him to a steady, delicious pace.

I poke him in the nose. “Don’t you try to pull away or talk me out of it when we're outta this shower.”

“Hmmm,” he grumbles, lifting me up and dropping me fast and hard on him. Up and down, the soft rolling motions are over. I let him take pleasure in controlling my body. The way his pace stutters and his legs shake, I can tell he’s close. I want his attention on what we said, not what our bodies feel.

“Say it again,” I demand. He knows what I mean.

“I love you.”

“Again.” Every word is on an exhale as I bounce and he shoves. Our bodies become one frantic motion.

“I love you, Bobby.”

I smack his shoulder. “Not Bobby, you jerk!”

“I love you, Poppylan.” His pace is steady. Claiming. “Now, you say it.”

“I love you.” The words are whispered at his lips.

“Again.”

“I love you, Tora.” My body is exhausted but so close. “We’ll figure out all this safety stuff?”

“It'd help if ya stop stealing journals from criminals.” He’s smiling again and God I love the sight. “But yeah, we’ll figure it out. You’ll be safe.”

“You’re safe with me too, Tora.”

He gulps and closes his eyes, pulling me so close I can barely breath. His thrusts are short, his grunts pained. “I’m close, Sweetheart. I know I’ve asked a lot of your sweet body, but can you come for me again?

“I...I think I can. I want you to come inside. Fill me up."

“Goddamn, you’ve got a mouth on you.”

“You wanna hear how I’m about to gush all over your fat cock?” I smirk and lick over his ear, tasting the water and salt. “How tight you fill me up? How much I love your voice, your body, your sweet spirit?”

“Please come, sweetheart. Come for me now, baby. I need you.”

“Tora...Tora...Tora.”

I’m already gone, clenching, shaking, and thanking God we’re in a shower. He grasps me on a loud roar. His thick length throbs deep inside. Everything turns warm and wet.

A beautiful mess. That’s us.

Panting, he leans against me, nose to nose. “Ya wanted to know the truth, huh? Got a little more than you bargained for.”

“The hard truth is…” I smile, sated, happy, changed. “We’re in love against the odds and all reasonable warnings.”

He hugs me close. “And nothing’s ever gonna be the same.”