femdom-ficrec-lieeh:byzantiumshades: Pairing: Mark Lee (NCT) x fem!readerGenre: SmutContains: Mastur

femdom-ficrec-lieeh:

byzantiumshades:

Pairing: Mark Lee (NCT) x fem!reader

Genre:Smut

Contains: Masturbation (male), dirty talk, nipple play, hand job, marking (mentioned), praise kink

Word count: 1988

A/N:  The Dancing With Fire trilogy: Part 1

___

“Sure. One last question: where exactly do you want those hickeys?” you asked amusedly as your hands repeatedly swept up and down his sides.

Mark could barely think straight at this point. Your touch, your smell, your voice – they were making him nuts. His body was on fire.

“Everywhere,” he breathed out shakily as his arms circled your neck.

“Mark me everywhere, please.”

You shook your head with a chuckle and gave him a kiss that took his breath away.

“With pleasure, love.”

Without rush, you took off his t-shirt and threw it onto the floor.

“Gorgeous,” you purred kissing his chest and shoulders as he squirmed on your lap.

“The things I’d like to do to you, fuck, you have no idea, Mark.”

“Please, do whatever you want to do to me,” he cried out rolling his hips slowly as he bared his long neck to you.

“You don’t even know what’s on my mind, yet you’re agreeing so willingly,” you hummed against his throat while one of your hands unzipped his pants swiftly.

“I want this. I want you,” he said looking you in the eyes.

“I know. I’m going to destroy you, love,” you chuckled darkly in answer as you roughly cupped his dick through his underwear.

Mark opened his eyes breathing heavily only to let out a resigned groan as he felt the uncomfortable wetness in his pyjama pants. It sounded ridiculous to say, but he was slowly getting used to it. It was not the first time this month, not even this week.

“Goddamn it,” he murmured getting up still not entirely awake.

He rubbed his eyes and looked around for something to wear instead of his dirtied pants. Something blue caught his eye: your hoodie. He picked it up and hid his face in it – even after a few washes it still smelled like you. Suddenly he remembered his dream: “your” words resonated in his clouded mind. Just the memory of it was enough for his cock to slowly start filling with blood once again.

“Great, just great,” Mark sighed threading fingers through his tangled hair.

Picking up the hoodie, he went to the bathroom. After hanging the soft piece of clothing on the rail, he started to undress. Tossing both his t-shirt and pants into the laundry basket, he caught his reflection in the mirror. Even though the skin of his neck was now unblemished it wasn’t difficult to remind himself how it looked like just a few weeks before. When he’d come back home that day, he had been unbelievably hard from your little making out session. Seeing himself in the mirror, he couldn’t have helped but take his cock out and jerk off to the sight. The very thought that it had been you who’d marked him had made arousal coil in his belly and to be frank is hadn’t been something he’d been familiar with. It had been a different type of arousal, one he hadn’t had a chance to experience yet. Not like he didn’t like it though – quite the opposite.

“What a shame they disappeared already,” he murmured in wonder as he let his gaze move down the lean body.

His flushed cock stood proudly, clearly desperate for attention and Mark couldn’t help but chuckle at that thought. That was a good phrase to describe him now: desperate for attention. Your attention that was.

Turning the shower on he stepped in without thinking only to yelp quietly mere seconds later when cold water hit his skin. Soon it warmed up but he just stood there motionlessly letting the water roll down his body. Propping himself against the cold wall Mark closed his eyes: now he could freely imagine that he wasn’t alone.

“For fuck’s sake,” he sighed as the tips of his fingers lightly skimmed over his lips and jaw.

Moving down his long neck, they grazed his prominent collarbones and all he could think of were your lips, your fingers and the way you stared at him when he moved away to catch his breath. You’d looked like you wanted to devour him there and then. Mark vividly remembered your feather-like touch that had turned firm making his mind fuzzy with pleasure.

“Please,” he groaned softly when his hands started to wander over his chest, teasing perky nipples just as he imagined you would.

You liked to tease, he knew that already. Not once, not twice he’d heard remarks here and there about your boyfriends and something phrased as patience training. At first, he hadn’t quite got it, but it hadn’t taken him long.  To be frank Mark was quite an impatient man himself, and he couldn’t even fathom what it’d feel like if you toyed with him just like you did with your previous partners.

“Fuck, I’d beg her on my knees to touch me,” he scoffed humourlessly as the tip of his finger circled the sensitive areola.

Previous weeks passed fast but left him in agony –for one stupid request to have such consequences, ridiculous. His life was ridiculous now too. If he only hadn’t wanted to childishly prove himself, he’d have never learnt the touch of your lips.

“And look what it did to me,” he chuckled once again but bit his lip at the very memory of it.

It was difficult not to daydream about your touch on daily basics. You seemed to torment him even when he didn’t see you for days, but it was even worse when he did. He couldn’t help but notice everything you were doing: the way you rolled his eyes when you found something stupid, the way your voice was getting just a touch warmer when you were talking to him, the way you played with the rings on your fingers when you were bored. He had seen that before too, yes, but now it was different somehow. Now he desperately wanted to be close to you, to play with your hair, to cuddle with you, to kiss you. He fell hard and he knew that. He also knew he should at least try to distance himself from you for the sake of your friendship, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. It was the sweetest kind of torture to have you this close yet ultimately out of his reach.

“I just want your attention so bad,” he sighed softly and then moaned your name as his hands finally reached his groin.

The familiar feeling of strong fingers curling around his shaft was much more intense with tonight’s dream still fresh in his mind. He imagined that those fingers were yours: loosely gripping his swollen cock, teasing the sensitive head, playing gently with his balls. His hips bucked involuntary, and he could almost feel your stern gaze, your free hand firmly pressing his hips against the wall. God, you’d never let this go, you’d smirk and tell him that he’s awfully impatient and ask if he really wanted to cum so bad. Mark started to lazily move his hand along his cock as his free hand fondled his balls carefully. A sudden memory appeared in his mind: his back against the wall just like right now and you kissing him breathless.

“Fuck,” he moaned recalling how he’d stumbled upon you on a party last month.

You had been both very drunk at that moment and, to put it mildly, neither of you could’ve cared less. He didn’t remember much from that party but that one encounter was graved into his memory: hungry kisses, wandering hands and no space between two bodies.

“I want to fuck you so bad,” you had said between kisses and at that moment Mark had been ready to be taken here and there.

His sneaky hand had found its way under your top.

“Goood, you’re soooo…” he had moaned massaging your breast through the lacy fabric of your bra.

“I know,” you had shrugged with a smirk putting one of your hands under his t-shirt in return.

He clearly remembered how hard he had become back then, and he was sure that you had been aware of that. You’d been about to slide the unnecessary material down his hips when someone walking past you two had snickered:

“Jesus Christ get yourself a room, people. You can’t just fuck in the corridor.”

That comment had seemed to sober you up. Realization of what you had just been about to do must’ve struck you because you’d moved away breathing heavily. Mark had been panting and he’d felt hot all over – no doubt he’d been blushing like crazy.

“I’m sorry,” you’d sighed ruffling your hair.

“I told you that I won’t pressure you and here I am throwing myself at you the very moment I see you,” you’d shaken your head with a chuckle.

“Noooo, noooo, it’s okay,” Mark had gabbled out trying to straighten up but had ended up almost falling down.

“It’s not, love. You’re drunk as hell.”

“Whaaaat no? I’m perfectly soberrrr,” he’d said but his words had been barely coherent at that point.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Mark didn’t really remember much from the way back: it was all about the colourful lights when you’d driven through the city, a ridiculous amount of stairs when you’d walked him to his apartment and your hand massaging his back when he’d vomited violently in the bathroom.

“I’m cold,” he’d whined quietly as you had been helping him get on the bed.

Without a word you had taken off your blue hoodie and had helped him dress into it. Just before leaving you’d kissed his forehead lightly making him smile sweetly.

“Sweet dreams, love,” you’d whispered fondly caressing his cheek.

Every time he thought about it his heart was starting to beat dangerously fast in his chest and he was grinning like an idiot. You were always protective towards him and cared about him deeply – that was obvious even to him. Now, however, he saw it from a different perspective. Very much different.

“I’d-I’d love you to touch me more, fuck,” he whimpered thumbing the head of his cock.

He thought about your lips once again but this time moving along his shaft, your tongue licking sensitive skin, hands massaging his thighs. He felt the pleasure building in his lower abdomen as he thought about you. He was now moaning quietly: his hand moving faster and faster, wrist twisting around the head from time to time just as he liked it. You’d probably tease him until he wouldn’t be able to take it any more, but you wouldn’t let him come. He’d have to beg you for it, he was sure of it. But for you and just for you, he could beg.

“Please,” he cried out imagining your knowing smirk and came hard.

Long ropes of semen shoot out from his cock covering his hand and the wall in front of him. Mark closed his eyes imagining how you’d praise him and kiss him for being so good. Breathing deeply to calm down his galloping heartbeat he thought about your soft hand on his cheek. About your safe embrace, calming scent of your body, soft curves – he missed your touch so badly. It didn’t matter what kind of touch it was: sexual or not he needed it. He needed you.

“What the fuck am I doing,” he said suddenly hitting the wall.

Washing up quickly he barely dried himself off before tugging on a pair of clean underwear and some sweats. He hesitated for a moment before putting on your blue hoodie, and he was out almost running to his car. Thankfully the streets were empty so in no time he reached the destination – your apartment. He barely controlled himself at this point: he was panting heavily, his hands shook, and he couldn’t think straight. But he knew one thing – now or never.

Mark Lee knocked on the door.

Copyright © 2020-2021 by byzantiumshades. All rights reserved.

Part one is good too

If you liked the first two parts, then I hope that you’ll also like the third and final part ‘cause it’s already in the making