Work Text:
“Babe, come look!”
Marius' voice, filled with excitement, echoes from the living room. You quickly wipe your hands on the apron, then slip it over your head.
After a brief inspection of the cookies through the oven window, you smile to yourself before turning on your heel to exit the kitchen, wondering what your fiance is so excited about.
You both had spent the evening decorating the living room with Christmas decorations, giving the living space the festive vibe that it needed. Tinsels and garlands draped along the mantelpiece, framing the modern fireplace with stockings with his name and yours embroidered on them in gold thread. The plush sofa beside it is draped in red throws and dark green pillows, its cosiness inviting you to lie in it.
And then there’s the scented candles filling the air with the comforting fragrance of spiced apples, now mingling with the scent of your cookies, wafting in from the kitchen.
Finally, your gaze settles on the six-foot Christmas tree, standing in the middle of the room. Once adorned with traditional red and green ornaments and tinsels from when you decorated it together—now carries subtle touches of purple, courtesy of your husband-to-be.
You circle it, taking in the enchanting view, and that's when you find him, reclining sideways beneath the tree.
“Merry Christmas, my love,” he smiles, innocently—all for two seconds before it turns into his signature smirk.
He's presented like a gift, much too sinful for Christmas—enveloped in stripes of red and green ribbons, complete with a bow. The silk ribbons wind around his torso, thighs, and neck, snug but impressively tight enough to secure his own wrists behind his back.
Leave it to Marius to take gift wrapping seriously.
You sink to your knees beside him, tugging lightly onto one of the loose ribbons, looking at him in curious amusement. “Are we unwrapping gifts tonight? Isn’t it a bit too early?”
With a smug smile, he winks and wiggles his body to move nearer to you. “You can open this one a bit earlier, I don’t mind.”
You raise an eyebrow, a matching smirk playing on your lips.
“Hmmmm…but what if I don’t want to?” You reach forward to play with the top button of his shirt, before popping it open. “What if I want to keep it all wrapped up?” You love that shirt on him—he looks so good in it because it hugs his body perfectly, accentuating his firm chest and arm muscles.
But then again, he looks good in anything, especially with nothing on.
“But jiejie…where’s the fun in that?” Marius attempts to sit up, but your palm abruptly stops him, pushing hard against his chest until his back is flat on the floor.
“Oh…there’s lots of fun in that.”
You lick your lips when his muscle flexes underneath your touch.
Shifting to straddle his thighs, your fingers tug at the tail of his shirt, freeing them from his pants before pushing it up his body. You trace your nails gently along his exposed skin, easily leaving red lines from how sensitive it is—while you relish in the sight of his abs rippling in response to your touch.
“Jiejie…?” he chuckles nervously, eyes narrowing as he watches your fingers move towards his zipper. With deft fingers, you reach in and pull his cock out of its confines—earning you a sharp hiss from him.
With his wrists pinned behind him, he struggles to free himself and you giggle in amusement at how he has put himself in that predicament. The frown on his face shows how frustrated he is with himself and you’re determined to add just a bit more to the madness.
It doesn’t take long for his cock to stiffen in your grasp, the head pink and leaking with pre-cum, begging to be licked. You wipe it with your thumb, smearing it down his length as you tighten your fist around him and begin stroking—gently, torturously slow.
Marius groans at the sight, eyes fixated on your small hand, pumping him up and down at that deliberate pace that drives him insane.
Briefly removing your hand from him, you spit into your palm before wrapping your hand around him again—the new wet and warm sensation makes his hips buck upwards involuntarily. You can see the desperation in his eyes, clouded with lustful urges to take control.
Patience has never been his strong suit, at least not when it comes to sex. Especially not when he’s on the receiving end of the teasing.
“How long do you think you can hold yourself back?”
He hisses at the feeling of your thumb tracing the vein on the underside of his cock. “Hold…myself?”
You give him a hard tug.
Marius’ eyes snap up to meet yours then, eyebrows raised.
“You’re always telling me not to cum…only when you tell me to…” you trail off, voice low, carrying a seductive lilt. “So…” You reach into his pants to knead his balls, heavy and twitching against your fingers.
“I wonder how long you’ll last…” You shift backwards, making space to lean forward—giving his swollen tip a teasing lick. “...before you break for me.”
“Fuck.”
His hips jerk upwards when your lips close around him. The warmth of your mouth welcomes his cock as it slides all the way in with practised ease, bumping against the back of your throat.
From both the suction of your mouth and your fingers pumping him, it’s impressive how he has not immediately exploded down your throat.
But there’s something about denying his orgasm that makes the experience so sexy. The desperation is etched on his face, aching to give in to the pleasure but also restraining himself, eager to please—or fearing to lose.
You did not miss the mumbled pleas leaving his lips.
“Did I just hear you beg, baby?” You tilt your head sideways teasingly, kissing the head of his cock before wrapping your lips tight around it. “Mmmmmm…” You moan deliberately, sending delicious vibrations through his body, making his cock throb against your tongue.
“…please— please… ”
“Please what, Marius?” You pump his cock faster, watching as more pre-cum leak from the tip and mingling with your spit.
Gripping the base of his cock, you wrap your mouth around him again. The sudden warmth enveloping him made him throw his head back against the floor, hips arching towards the ceiling, shoving deeper into your mouth. Your saliva trails down his length and pools at the base.
“Fuck..please… please let me cum. Babe—”
Besides the sound of wet sucking and gags as you deepthroat him, you can also hear his ragged breathing and choked pleas. The obscenity of it all makes you cum untouched before you even realise it.
Releasing him with a pop, you give him a hard tug as you simultaneously shove your other hand down your skirt—flicking furiously at your aching clit with your fingers as you come apart before him.
“Oh—I’m cumm—Marius, cum for me. Cum, now.”
He came with a roar, body jerking uncontrollably against you while your fingers continue to pump his cock, feeling it violently twitch as he unloads all over your hand.
Ribbons of hot white semen shoot from the tip, and with no target lock, it gets everywhere —decorating your fingers, lips, his abs, chest and everything in the radius, including the poor Christmas tree, with his fluids. There’s so much of it, and your hand continues to milk him, even opening your mouth to capture some of it on your tongue.
Marius looks positively debauched beneath you; covered in his own cum, skin glistening with sweat, hair unkempt—and the once pretty bow, now crooked beyond repair. His eyes are clenched shut, jaw slack, as he releases a shuddering breath.
With no intention to let him rest, as he has done the same to you more times than you can count—you tug his pants down, shove your skirt and panties to your ankles then swiftly climb up his body. Marius' eyes widen as he watches you straddle him, your hair falling messily in front of you as you reach for him.
His barely softening cock stands fully erect once again when you grab him to line him up against your wet cunt.
“Babe…wait—”
The walls of your cunt stretch deliciously around his thick cock as you sink down onto his body—dragging another involuntary moan out of him. His eyes roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your tight walls gripping his overstimulated cock. He has barely recovered from his last orgasm, the final spurts still shooting from his tip, splashing against your walls.
The air feels too hot so you quickly fumble to unbutton your blouse, tugging it open to free your tits. He groans at the sight of your exposed breasts, your nipples harden under his hungry stare, feral and bordering on unhinged.
The absence of control takes its toll on a man, particularly on one Marius von Hagen.
Wonder what the employees of Pax would think if they ever saw their precious young CEO like this. The pretty flush on his cheeks, the narrow slits of his eyes as he wills himself from blacking out from overstimulation and the occasional whining sounds leaving his lips, pleading for your mercy.
You take a mental picture, carving it into your memory for future use when he leaves for yet another week-long business trip.
Planting your palms against his chest, you roll your hips against him to take him deeper. With some effort, he props his arms against the floor to arch his hips upwards to meet yours, pumping his cock into you until you both find a rhythm.
His eyes are fixated on your joined bodies—every sheathe and pull coats his cock with more of your cream, now mixing with some of his fluids. Its messy and erotic sight is an invitation for him to succumb to another brain-numbing release but a brief snap of reality suddenly kicks in, even though he’s barely keeping it together to form coherent words.
“Baby, fuck. We didn’t use a condom—”
You slam yourself down onto him, dragging a choked groan from him and cutting him off mid-sentence. You lean forward, pressing your tits against his clothed chest and kisses the underside of his jaw.
“It’s okay.” You press a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth. “You can cum inside.”
Marius tilts his head slightly to meet your gaze, looking for confirmation, almost in disbelief, only because he knows you’re not on the pill as you normally are.
“…you sure?”
“Marius, I want to feel you inside me.” The words leave you with no hesitation. “No barriers. It’s umm–my Christmas gift to you…” You trail, rubbing your thumb across his lower lip. “Breed me like you always said you would.”
“Oh fuck…”
His chest heaves, mind reeling at your request of which he is more than happy to oblige. He wrestles with the ribbons around him, loosening them just enough so he can adjust himself to an angle that allows him to fuck you deeper.
“I can’t believe you’re asking me to breed you while I’m all tied up…this isn’t fair.”
You chuckle, trailing your nails down his firm chest, and deftly undoing the remaining buttons of his shirt. You grab onto the ribbons around his neck, holding onto them like reins as you settle back into your seating position.
“ You tied yourself up, Marius.”
He lets out a frustrated grunt, and thrusts up into you, shoving his cock right against your cervix. You scream at the rough intrusion, driving you close to another orgasm.
Your tits bounce wildly as he starts fucking you faster and he savours the sight of your lewd body, naked and slick with sweat and cum—and he’s desperate to taste you. With a press of his palms against the floor, he pushes himself up into a seating position and then greedily latches onto your nipple.
“Marius…oh…” Your body jerks against him, pressing yourself further into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around your stiff peak, tugging it gently between his teeth then releasing it with a wet pop before giving the other the same attention until they’re both red and swollen.
“Marius…I’m going to—cum…” With his mouth sucking on your tits, swollen clit rubbing against him and thick cock pumping in and out of you in quick hard thrusts, it’s nearly impossible not to come undone again so soon after the last one.
“I want to feel your cunt squeeze me when you cum. Do it now, baby…now.” He takes your nipple in his mouth again in one hard suck, it sends you hurtling towards a screaming orgasm.
“ Yessss …just like that baby….”
His name echoes into the ceiling, moans morphing into unrestrained, loud screams.
“I’m gonna—fucking cum too— holy shit! ” A deep rumbling groan escapes his throat, as you cum together, fluids gushing out of you while he empties every single drop inside you in hot spurts.
You collapse onto him, moaning into his mouth as you continue to ride the euphoria—your body trembling uncontrollably, pussy throbbing and squeezing around him, coaxing more cum from him.
Fluids, yours and his, pool beneath you, leaking messily past your joined flesh, and onto the, fuck , carpet. You roll your hips against him, clenching your walls deliberately around his cock and he halts mid-kiss to hiss against your lips.
“Are you trying to drain me?” He asks between ragged breaths, chest heaving and pressing against your oversensitive nipples.
“Mm-hmm. Every single drop.”
“Fuck…”
You raise your hips until his cock slips out of you.
Through half-lidded eyes, he watches as you spread your folds apart with your fingers, letting the combined release drip onto his navel and slide down his skin. You start fingering yourself and making a show of dipping your fingers inside and pushing it deeper.
A breathless ‘fuck’ leave his lips and he slams his head back onto the floor, eyes rolling back.
His cock, despite twitching and weeping from overstimulation, is still stiff—to no one’s surprise. Two is a weak number by his standards. His love for extreme sports is really just a facade for his deep-seated obsession with having more . More adrenaline, more thrill, excitement, and more release—from rounds of vigorous fucking.
So despite the risk of a chafed cock, his greediness to fill you to the brim ultimately consumes him. With your combined fluids as lube, he starts fucking you again—starting with slow thrusting until his strength finds him once more.
You turn around until your back is to him, settling on your knees again to straddle his thighs.
The loosening ribbons around him allow him some space to move. He struggles out of the restraints, not completely but just enough to free his arms from under him. You feel him grab your ass cheeks, spreading them to watch his cock sink into you. The first sheathe will never fail to drag that sexy, rumbling groan out of him— music to your ears.
You pull out completely, leaving only his tip in and then slowly, in a teasing, undulating motion, sink back onto his cock in one quick swoop.
The final thread of his patience snaps.
And suddenly he’s slamming into you with a speed you aren’t prepared for.
Rough.
Frenzied.
You gasp, his hard thrusts send you lurching forward onto his knees, clutching onto his legs, nails sinking into his skin.
“You’re fucking me so good…Marius—yes…yes!”
“Jiejie…shit—your pussy is squeezing me so tight.”
The fat of your ass smacks loudly against his pelvis, cum pulling and snapping, making a mess on his thighs. He inserts a thumb into your hole, joining his thrusting cock. Your body jolts at the fullness, feeling stretched to the limit as if he’s going to rip you apart.
“I’m going to fill this hole until you can’t take any more…”
“Yes please…”
The smell of sweat-slicked bodies and sex fills the air, overpowering the smell of scented candles.
Marius raises his knees to force you to lie on your back, flat against his chest. One hand snakes up your front to squeeze your breast while the other finds your throat, fingers wrapping themselves around your neck.
Anchoring his strong legs on the floor, he finally finds an angle that allows him to penetrate his cock even deeper that you can almost feel him in your lungs.
“Oh—you’re so deep inside me.”
He hisses through gritted teeth. “You’re gonna kill me, babe. You’re so fucking horny…”
“It’s your…fault…nngghh…”
“Your pussy is gonna feel this tomorrow morning.” He whispers, dipping his mouth near you to lick the skin beneath your earlobe.
“Mmm...so is your dick.”
Your tits bounce heavily from his hard pounding, with no signs of him faltering—determined to drag more orgasms out of you, until your eyes cross.
The frenzied fucking seem to have moved you both further across the floor, closer to the Christmas tree. The soft tinkling and jingling noises that you hear are coming from the ornaments colliding and brushing against each other, stirred by the movement of the carpet beneath it.
The lewd sound of his balls slapping against your skin drags another lusty moan out of you. You feel drenched and filthy from the cum leaking messily between your bodies.
“Babe—turn around, please. Want to see—your face when I—cum inside you.”
Everything happens in quick succession. You turn around and impale yourself with him, he arches his back and slams back into your sex in hard thrusts.
The jingling sounds of ornaments and the loud wet smacking of skin mingle and reverberate throughout the room. Your jaw slack, stuck open in a silent scream—body thrashing above him as your walls clench him in a vice grip.
His hard fast fucking is too much—the restraints starting to loosen and fall around him at his harsh movement. You can feel his cock pound straight into your cervix.
With one final strength, you pin his arms against the floor on either side of him, putting your weight on his body and start slamming your ass down to meet his thrusts, fighting for dominance.
Marius curses into the ceiling. You lunge forward and slam your mouth against his in a bruising kiss—a clashing of teeth and tongue, tugging of lips until they’re swollen. Strands of saliva hang between you as you briefly part, gasping for air, breathing into each other.
“Baby...say it—again. Please…want to—hear you—say it.” He whispers, half whining in broken sentences, hot breath brushing against your chin.
“Cum inside me. Fill me up, Marius.”
“Oh—god…”
Loud moans leave your mouths in unison as he slams into you in quick punishing thrusts before coming straight into your womb, cock twitching and pulsing, cum spurting and coating your walls.
Wild overwhelming pleasure courses through you like fucking electric. And with your inhibition out the window, you lean back and circle your throbbing clit rapidly, pushing to the edge. You come squirting all over him, harder than before— messier than before.
Holy fuck.
“Oh fuck—babe! Oh shit —cum all over me…yes. Fuck!” Marius' vision blurs as he watches the fluids gush out of you. He’s drenched. His expensive shirt is soaked with your juices, sticking to his skin.
The obscene amount of fluids combined leaves a huge mess between you, skin and thighs sticking together. The lewd squelching sounds of your absolutely drenched cunt lull your brain back to life, after what seemed like a whole body shut-down.
La petite mort. The French knew what they were talking about because it does in fact, feel like little death.
The minutes feel like hours as you lay there on top of him, calmed by the rise and fall of his chest. Struggling against the ribbons, he manages to sit up, bringing you with him with arms wrapped around your limp body. He presses his forehead against yours, breath and sweat mingling.
Marius captures your lips in a soft kiss. You sigh contentedly into his mouth, eyes fluttering closed as you bask in the bliss of the aftermath. He’s always gentle at the after, peppering kisses and whispering sweet nothings against your skin, ever the lovesick fool. Your lovesick fool.
“Best Christmas gift ever.” You hum against his lips. He hums back in agreement, dipping his head to nip at your jaw.
“The poor Christmas tree though. We defiled it, babe.”
Your head jerks to look at it. A few of the ornaments, tinsel, and an angel had fallen off the branches, now strewn across the carpet amongst the heap of other messes that your rough sex left in its wake. The carpet is—ruined. At least not in a way where outsiders would know, oh but you, you would know.
Some of the leaves are still dripping with fluids and at that point, you can’t even tell whose anymore. Horrified yet amused—you bury your face against his neck and laugh.
“We’ll have to redecorate. And replace some of these, don’t we?” You say, picking up the angel with your fingers.
“I say it’s worth it. Fuckin’ around the Christmas tree …even the song tells you to do it.”
“Marius…it’s ‘rockin’ around.’
He shrugs, grinning. Potay-to po-ta-to.
You groan against his skin in both frustration and embarrassment. He laughs but it quickly dies down. Your eyes widen to find him tilting his head to the side, eyes narrowed in slits at the ceiling.
“Babe…do I smell burning?”
“THE COOKIES!”