[4]

warning: [M] for

“S-, baby,” Bobby’s voice catches in his throat, “Sit on daddy like a good girl.” He squeezes his eyes shut, willing his hips to stay in place and not snap up into the tight heat.

Turns out you’re better at math than you thought.

Bobby sits on the edge of the bed, feet planted firmly against the hardwood floor and arms wrapped around your waist to keep you steady. Above him, you’re straddling his lap, slowly but surely sinking down on his . Tonight, you get to top.

“Ah-” a soft moan slips past his lips and his head falls forward into you chest. He’s long gone - this is round three - and his heart is threatening to give out judging by how hard it’s knocking against his rib cage. “Baby, I need-” he cuts himself off with a curse as you drop down heavily, ignoring the slight burn in favor of drawing a low moan from him. Once in place he doesn’t waste a second and starts driving up into your body; it’s hard and fast and desperate and the whole room smells like , but it feels so ing good. His rough hands palm your and slide up your back; your cold fingers rake down his chest and press into his jutting hip bones. Bobby puts a lot of time in at the gym - his abs are defined (Read: chocolate) and the muscles in his arms and chest ripple every time he moves against you. The force behind the snap of his hips makes your s bounce softly and Bobby loves that he can lean down and trap a between his teeth without pulling away.

“Damn,” he mumbles into your collarbone, “You tryin to milk daddy? You want daddy to you good?” The only response you can offer is a heavy moan, the delicious friction between his throbbing and the walls of your making your mind short circuit and go blank. Bobby lands a stinging slap on your , leaning forward to growl in your ear. “Daddy asked you a question.”

“Y-yes,” you gasp, “B-baby wants daddy’s come.” His rhythm begins to stutter as he gets closer and closer to finishing, so you push a hand against his chest, motioning for him to stop. He takes the hint and stills his hips, then gingerly lies back so that he’s laying flat across the bed.

“Ride me good, baby.” He settels his hands on your thighs and helps guide you as you lift up… and sink back down. It’s shaky at first - this is your first time topping - but once you get a pattern started, it speeds up as the coil in your stomach tightens.

“F-, Bobby.” He starts to up into you and the sound it makes is wet from lube and mingled with choked moans. “I’m gonna-”

“Same,” he grunts, “-” His open-mouthed moan is silent, hips jerking sharply as he comes inside you, eyes fluttering shut as he s his way through it. The warm slick sliding down your leg sets you off, and the next second you squeeze around him as your barrels through your body. The edges of your vision fade black and your breath comes out in a whine, but you keep slamming up and down on his until it your body gets too sensitive to move, clint twitching in protest. After a minute of heavy breathing and shy smiles, you try to lift yourself off of him, but Bobby reaches up to pull you into his chest. “Don’t move,” he hums, “I feel cuddly.”

You can’t help but smile down at him. Wiggling a bit, you rest your head on his shoulder, squeezing him back when he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Good job on your test,” he murmurs. He’s on the verge of falling asleep and how he goes from 160 to 0 is beyond you. “I knew you’d do well.”

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