I'll Grant All Your Wishes
Title: I'll Grant All Your Wishes
Warning: NC-17
Character: Finn/Santana
Summary: For this prompt: Married. They go out to bars and pretend to be strangers just to come back home and have "one night stands".
Word Count: Too many to really be considered a drabble.
Disclaimer: Don't own.
She picked the place this time. Finn likes pubs and sports bars and like, fucking Applebee's and shit. Santana goes along with it because she loves him and doesn't feel like arguing, and when it's his fantasy, she figures she can just let him call the shots.
It's her turn now, and she's dressed to the nines - black satin strapless dress that hugs her curves and pushes her tits up, and red patent heels she knows drive him crazy - and sipping a Manhattan at the nicest hotel bar in the whole city. This drink's gonna set him back $17 when he offers to pay later, but whatever.
It's not that their sex life is lacking. They fuck like crazy as often as possible and neither of them is ever left unsatisfied. It's just that one night when they were out, this guy hit on her and Finn came over and instead of acting like her husband he acted like a guy with better game than the one who'd just offered to 'make it rain up in his bed' (what the fuck does that even mean? she has an idea, but really, just no). Finn had wedged himself between her and the stranger and introduced himself as 'the better option' and she'd soaked through her panties before she even finished her drink.
After that, she met him after work once, walked up to him and acted like a complete stranger until they left together and he fingered her in the dark alley next to the parking lot where their SUV was. He'd never done anything like that and she wanted more.
So it's kind of a thing.
He gave her an hour, said he'd be there any time within it and that she could just sit tight and wait for him. She fucking loves it when he pulls this shit and she can't even be mad at him for making her sit here all by herself.
He comes in and he's obviously changed; his work clothes consist of slacks and button downs. Finn's wearing his best suit and the tie she gave him for Christmas last year. (Well, before Christmas, because they were going to her boss' place for dinner and she couldn't have him walking in wearing a tie from fucking Target.)
He sidles up next to her, lifts his hand off the bar to get the bartender's attention, and orders a scotch, neat, and doesn't even pay Santana any mind.
At least until after he's sipped his drink and swirled it around in his glass a bit.
"Waiting for someone?" he asks, smug as fuck, because he made her wait 45 minutes. She knows him. He's not even looking at her.
"My ass of a husband," she says, sounding just bitter enough. "I don't think he's going to show."
Finn turns to look at her, eyes lingering on her chest long enough to make arousal already begin to spark in the pit of her stomach. "No?"
She shakes her head, finishes her drink. He's already holding up his hand for the bartender to bring her another. This is going to cost them $100 or something stupid. She doesn't care; it's not like they don't have the money. "I put on my best dress and everything."
Finn gives her a little grin, but then basically wipes it off his face as soon as he knows she's noticed. "It's a great dress."
"You think so?" He hums from low in his throat and she turns to him, and his eyes take in the expanse of thigh there. "He probably wouldn't notice."
"Then he's an idiot." Finn takes a drink and she reaches over and brushes her fingers over his wedding band. They've never played out this little scenario before. He chuckles a bit and spins his ring with his thumb. Fuck, she loves it when he does that. "Yeah."
"Why are you here all alone, then?"
"She's a bitch on wheels." Santana clenches her teeth and then grips the stem of her glass when her drink arrives. "She likes to wear the pants."
Santana sips her drink and makes no mistake when she looks to Finn's lap. "Some men like that kind of thing."
(He does. She knows that. And anyway, he's totally exaggerating. He doesn't think she's a bitch any more than she thinks he's a clueless idiot. This is all just pretend, but it's fun.)
"I hear some women like being with men who appreciate how gorgeous they are," he says, looking straight at her. "Just saying."
"So where's your bitch of a wife right now?"
She loves this. She does. Absolutely every second of it. They never plan anything, other than the time and place. It's all improv, and this thing they have going right now, this biting back and forth where they look like two hot people who don't even like each other, is just making her insane.
Her panties match her shoes. She's been trying to think of when to tell him that. (Finn will love it.)
"Not here."
"Well." Santana turns towards him and slides her hand up his thigh, brushes against his cock through his pants. "Do you want to appreciate me?"
"I don't even know your name." Then his hand moves to her thigh and he pushes his hand between her legs, forcing her to uncross them. Her body thrums with arousal when his wedding ring brushes the inside of her thigh under her dress.
"It's not important. You can just think of me as the woman who's going to let you do whatever you want tonight." She leans in and lets her lips brush his ear. "Your wife doesn't let you do that, does she?"
His voice is choked when he says, "No," and shakes his head a bit. "I want you."
"We could get a room."
Finn looks at her as if he wants to know if she means that. She really, really does. They usually take longer to get to this part of the game, but fuck, she's dying for him right now, and acting like two people about to have an affair is somehow the hottest thing imaginable. Probably because she knows neither of them would ever step out on the other.
His long, talented fingers brush against the front of her panties, and no, she doesn't give a fuck if anyone sees. Then he pushes her drink towards her, finishes his in one gulp, and says, "Let's go."
He drops some bills down on the bar - lord only knows if it's even enough to cover their tab - gets up, and walks out of the bar without her.
As much as she wishes she could take this Finn home with her, it's not like he ever has a problem taking control if he wants to. Christ, they'd never have gotten married if he couldn't do that very thing.
He's already checking them into a room when she walks past the hotel's front desk and hits the call button for the elevator. They get in with three other people, and Finn pulls her to the back with him, presses his chest to her back. The keycard is in his hand and his dick is hard against her ass, and he brushes his thumb over her rings like he's trying to reassure her or something. It's like he's trying to remind her that this is a game and he'd never, ever do this in a million years with anyone other than her. She knows that, obviously, and presses her ass back against him. Like a reward or something.
She feels like she can't breathe for wanting him.
He pins her between his body and the door to the room when they get to it in the hall. She can see a surveillance camera over his shoulder when he bends to suck at her neck. She doesn't know what it is about this game that makes him an exhibitionist, but she fucking approves. She pulls on his tie, tugs at it so his face is just above hers and he's leaning his forearm against the door above her shoulder.
"Open the door," she breathes against his lips.
They haven't kissed properly, even. Until he has her in the room and the door isn't even clicked closed behind them. He presses her against the wall and grinds against her, puts both hands on her face and kisses her hard, bruising her lips, she's sure, and forcing her to grab onto his lapels for balance.
Then, without warning, he shoves his hand up under her dress and rubs her through the lace of her panties, groans against her mouth when he finds how wet she is. "Your name," he says, pressing hard against her nerves. She moans and rocks her hips down against his hand. "Tell me your name."
"Santana."
Fuck. This is the best night ever.
She doesn't ask his name and he doesn't tell her. (They never make up names. Last time she said something about it being really hot that he's a 'stranger'. Maybe he's playing that up right now.)
The whole thing about the matching panties is really stupid, she realizes, when Finn pulls them down her legs and rubs her bare clit before even looking at the article he just took off her. Then his fingers slip inside her and she has to grab onto his arm hard, because she lifts one leg around his hip and she's unsteady on just one stiletto heel. Her dress is bunched up, but she doesn't care, not when he's nipping at the side of her neck, kneading her ass in one hand and fucking her with the other.
She's so, so close, and she knows he knows that (they're married; he knows all her tells) when he pulls his fingers from her body and trails a wet line across her collar bone. She moans - loudly - when he licks her skin clean, shucks his jacket and gets onto his knees.
She wonders if she offended him earlier with the talk of 'her husband'. Whatever it is that has him acting like this, she'd like to know so she can do it again sometime.
She sinks her hands into his hair and pulls him closer, even though his lips are already on her, and her head hits the wall hard when he lifts her thigh over his shoulder, opening her up for him.
"Mmm," he murmurs against her, letting her clit go from his lips. It makes an obnoxious sound and his tongue comes out to clean his mouth as he looks up at her with a completely boyish look on his face. "Gorgeous pussy," he tells her.
"Fuck." She snaps her eyes closed and pulls his hair, and then he's putting his tongue to good use and working against her nerves. He does something she swears he's never done before, or maybe it's just the angle and the fact that she's so fucking turned on she's probably wetter than she's ever been, and comes really close to yelling out his name. "Yes, baby, right there."
He finishes her (same way he always does, and she will never complain about the way he rubs the point of his tongue just to the right of her clit when he knows she's close) and laps at her as she comes, loudly, hands fisted in his hair and hips working against his mouth. She slumps back against the wall and he stands in front of her again. She loves these heels because they put her a hell of a lot closer to his height. He dips down and kisses her, pushing her own taste into her mouth, then tugs at her hair just hard enough to get her moving with him, away from the wall. She stumbles on her heels because her legs aren't ready to work yet, and Finn just wraps an arm around her waist and pushes the backs her knees right up against the bed.
"Take this off," he says gruffly, pulling at the fabric of her dress where he can hook his finger between her tits on account of her cleavage.
"Say please."
She's just dumb right now, from her orgasm. Possibly why she doesn't expect the hand that smacks down just hard enough against her bare ass, or the way he says, "Take it off," in a more serious tone.
"You do it," she says.
He just stares darkly down at her, and fuck, he's really going to town with this whole 'wearing the pants' thing. She finds the zipper at her side and lets her dress fall to the floor, but she's not taking her shoes off until/unless he tells her to. She grabs at the knot of his tie and works it loose with her fingers, and she wants to whine at the way he's not helping her undress him. She wants him now and she's loving this stupid game, but she also loves the Finn who needs to be inside her before his pants are even off. She knows all this isn't because he doesn't want to fuck her, obviously, but she's getting desperate and he's just standing there with his hands at his sides as she unbuttons his shirt. Finally, once she's got all the buttons undone and she's pulling his shirttails from his pants, he reaches for his belt. This stupid thrill runs through her, as though she really is about to see his cock for the first time.
Then he pushes at her shoulder so she's sitting down and looking up at him when he pushes his pants to the floor and kicks them off. He's hard in his boxers and she'd normally just go for it, but she's looking up at him and it's like part of her's wondering if she should wait for permission or something.
She loves him like this. It's amazing.
She can't take it any more and hooks her fingers into the sides of his shorts and pulls them down his legs. He nudges her thighs apart with his knee and her breath hitches when he steps between her legs. She's fucking throbbing again, but she also licks her lips and hears the groan he tries to hold in right before he pushes his hand into her hair.
God. When they get home and they're acting like themselves again, she is so going to reward him for this thing he's doing. And isn't that a weird thing to think? Whatever. She's got a mouth full of her husband's cock and he presses his hips forward so she'll take more. It's not all that odd that the only thing she's thinking about is sex.
He hits the back of her throat and mutters, "Take it, baby," and she chokes just a bit when she tries to moan around him. Fucking hell he's amazing right now. She pulls off, coughs the slightest bit and he looks down at her, takes his hand out of her hair and strokes the side of her face. Immediately he looks concerned, looks like her husband. "Sorry." She just shakes her head and licks around the head of his dick and his hips jut forward again. "Fuck, Santana."
This time the moan doesn't, you know, keep her from breathing, and his hand tightens in her hair. The insides of her thighs are brushing against his and, she swears, making her wetter by the second. She can't help it when her hand wanders down between her legs to touch herself. She's soaked and she wants him so bad that she think she can make herself come right now with her hand faster than she can make him come with her mouth.
"Stop," he commands, pulling back. She reaches up with her wet hand and wraps it around his cock. "If you want me, say so."
"Please," she breathes out, sounding totally desperate and not giving even one fuck about that. She leans back on her elbows and parts her legs more.
Finn just says, "I'm sorry?" like he has no clue what she wants.
"Fuck me. Right now."
He groans and she watches his jaw move as he clenches and unclenches his teeth. He strokes himself once, hard, and squeezes at the base. She's actually impressed that he's been able to keep it together when it's so clear that he's hard as fuck and wants this as bad as she does.
"Lay back," he tells her, and she moves herself up the bed quickly until she's back against the pillows. "Show me."
Fuck. There she goes almost saying his name again. "Baby, come here." She spreads her legs wide and he practically crawls towards her, drags his length through her wetness and gives her clit too much attention (no seriously). "Stop. I'll come before you're even..."
He sinks into her all the way, until they're stomach to stomach and she feels so full of him.
"I don't have a condom," he tells her, and her first reaction is to wonder why the fuck he cares about that. But he's committed to this, apparently, and he's still in character.
He's still a total stranger and not her husband.
"I don't care. Do not stop."
He chuckles - his Finn laugh, not his character's (god, this is hot) - and kisses her, then snaps his hips hard against hers and says, "I'm gonna come inside you, baby, 'kay?"
She can really only nod, because goddamn. He does it all the time - they're married and she's on birth control - but there's just something about him, this, right now, that makes the whole concept feel hot and dirty and so fucking good.
She slips up, just once, and starts saying his name. He kisses her to cut her off, twists his hips just right as he's fucking her and hits her spot. She bites at his bottom lip, says, "Again," and he shakes his head and completely disregards her request. It's not like Finn to deny her an orgasm. Normally he'd just double her up if she went before him.
"You don't come 'til I do," he insists, his hand on the side of her neck.
He pulls out and she seriously wants to cry, but then he says, "Roll over, baby," and runs his hands up her thighs, and she can't seem to get her body to move fast enough.
... ... ...
She knows she fell asleep pretty much right after she came last night. There's a fucking amazing ache deep in her muscles that she really, really loves, she discovers as she attempts to stretch off her sleep.
She's alone in bed. Finn's side is a mess, the pillow on an angle just like every other morning. She sits up a bit, wiping her eyes, and sees that his clothes are gone and her dress, shoes and panties are still on the floor where they fell last night. There's a moment of pure panic that he actually left her here alone and she's going to have to do the walk of shame. She's fucking married and that means not having to leave a hotel alone in last night's dress.
She looks over and sees the notepad on the bedside table next to the glass of water he brought her last night before she fell asleep. She's trying to remember if he spoke to her as Finn last night at all. She doesn't think so.
Thanks for last night. I'm sure your husband knows exactly how lucky he is. -F
She's torn between thinking it's really, really sweet, and being pissed at him for actually leaving. She tears the sheet off the notepad and folds it carefully in two, then tucks it into the clutch bag she has with her. She wants to keep it.
She's wondering what the hell she's supposed to do, because she's sure checkout is in about two hours. And anyway, she needs to go home and berate her dick of a husband for taking the game too far and actually leaving her, like she really was some kind of one night stand.
But then the door opens and he comes in with her overnight bag in one hand and a tray of Starbucks coffee in the other hand. He's wearing jeans and a tee shirt, and it's pretty clear he just went home and came straight back with a change of clothes for her, and some breakfast.
"They didn't have that muffin you love, so I got you the pumpkin scone," he says, setting her latté down on the bedside table right before leaning down for a kiss. "Hey."
"I thought you left."
"I left a note," he says, smirking, and she wants to be really pissed, but she just rolls her eyes at him and grabs her scone off the bedside table. "I didn't want to wake you up. Last night was..."
"Fucking incredible?" she supplies around a mouthful of her breakfast.
He's sitting there at the edge of the bed next to her, running his index finger around the top of his cup. "Yeah."
She leans forward, the sheets falling away from her body. She doesn't care that she's still naked. He looks, but doesn't say anything. "You were amazing," she says, lips against his cheek.
"Thanks," he practically whispers. He turns his head and brushes his lips against hers. "You were...God, 'Tana." She laughs a bit, quietly, and takes a sip of her drink, looks at him through her lashes. "I didn't think you'd go along with it the whole time."
She shrugs one shoulder and meets his eyes. "It was really hot."
He laughs again and leans in to kiss her, his hand covering her cheek. "Love you."
She rolls her eyes and reaches for her scone, takes a bite. "Love you, too," she says with her mouth full.
She watches him look over to the notepad with his note torn off, and he just smiles and sips his coffee and looks like he's pretty pleased with himself. She's not going to say anything about that, either.
Warning: NC-17
Character: Finn/Santana
Summary: For this prompt: Married. They go out to bars and pretend to be strangers just to come back home and have "one night stands".
Word Count: Too many to really be considered a drabble.
Disclaimer: Don't own.
She picked the place this time. Finn likes pubs and sports bars and like, fucking Applebee's and shit. Santana goes along with it because she loves him and doesn't feel like arguing, and when it's his fantasy, she figures she can just let him call the shots.
It's her turn now, and she's dressed to the nines - black satin strapless dress that hugs her curves and pushes her tits up, and red patent heels she knows drive him crazy - and sipping a Manhattan at the nicest hotel bar in the whole city. This drink's gonna set him back $17 when he offers to pay later, but whatever.
It's not that their sex life is lacking. They fuck like crazy as often as possible and neither of them is ever left unsatisfied. It's just that one night when they were out, this guy hit on her and Finn came over and instead of acting like her husband he acted like a guy with better game than the one who'd just offered to 'make it rain up in his bed' (what the fuck does that even mean? she has an idea, but really, just no). Finn had wedged himself between her and the stranger and introduced himself as 'the better option' and she'd soaked through her panties before she even finished her drink.
After that, she met him after work once, walked up to him and acted like a complete stranger until they left together and he fingered her in the dark alley next to the parking lot where their SUV was. He'd never done anything like that and she wanted more.
So it's kind of a thing.
He gave her an hour, said he'd be there any time within it and that she could just sit tight and wait for him. She fucking loves it when he pulls this shit and she can't even be mad at him for making her sit here all by herself.
He comes in and he's obviously changed; his work clothes consist of slacks and button downs. Finn's wearing his best suit and the tie she gave him for Christmas last year. (Well, before Christmas, because they were going to her boss' place for dinner and she couldn't have him walking in wearing a tie from fucking Target.)
He sidles up next to her, lifts his hand off the bar to get the bartender's attention, and orders a scotch, neat, and doesn't even pay Santana any mind.
At least until after he's sipped his drink and swirled it around in his glass a bit.
"Waiting for someone?" he asks, smug as fuck, because he made her wait 45 minutes. She knows him. He's not even looking at her.
"My ass of a husband," she says, sounding just bitter enough. "I don't think he's going to show."
Finn turns to look at her, eyes lingering on her chest long enough to make arousal already begin to spark in the pit of her stomach. "No?"
She shakes her head, finishes her drink. He's already holding up his hand for the bartender to bring her another. This is going to cost them $100 or something stupid. She doesn't care; it's not like they don't have the money. "I put on my best dress and everything."
Finn gives her a little grin, but then basically wipes it off his face as soon as he knows she's noticed. "It's a great dress."
"You think so?" He hums from low in his throat and she turns to him, and his eyes take in the expanse of thigh there. "He probably wouldn't notice."
"Then he's an idiot." Finn takes a drink and she reaches over and brushes her fingers over his wedding band. They've never played out this little scenario before. He chuckles a bit and spins his ring with his thumb. Fuck, she loves it when he does that. "Yeah."
"Why are you here all alone, then?"
"She's a bitch on wheels." Santana clenches her teeth and then grips the stem of her glass when her drink arrives. "She likes to wear the pants."
Santana sips her drink and makes no mistake when she looks to Finn's lap. "Some men like that kind of thing."
(He does. She knows that. And anyway, he's totally exaggerating. He doesn't think she's a bitch any more than she thinks he's a clueless idiot. This is all just pretend, but it's fun.)
"I hear some women like being with men who appreciate how gorgeous they are," he says, looking straight at her. "Just saying."
"So where's your bitch of a wife right now?"
She loves this. She does. Absolutely every second of it. They never plan anything, other than the time and place. It's all improv, and this thing they have going right now, this biting back and forth where they look like two hot people who don't even like each other, is just making her insane.
Her panties match her shoes. She's been trying to think of when to tell him that. (Finn will love it.)
"Not here."
"Well." Santana turns towards him and slides her hand up his thigh, brushes against his cock through his pants. "Do you want to appreciate me?"
"I don't even know your name." Then his hand moves to her thigh and he pushes his hand between her legs, forcing her to uncross them. Her body thrums with arousal when his wedding ring brushes the inside of her thigh under her dress.
"It's not important. You can just think of me as the woman who's going to let you do whatever you want tonight." She leans in and lets her lips brush his ear. "Your wife doesn't let you do that, does she?"
His voice is choked when he says, "No," and shakes his head a bit. "I want you."
"We could get a room."
Finn looks at her as if he wants to know if she means that. She really, really does. They usually take longer to get to this part of the game, but fuck, she's dying for him right now, and acting like two people about to have an affair is somehow the hottest thing imaginable. Probably because she knows neither of them would ever step out on the other.
His long, talented fingers brush against the front of her panties, and no, she doesn't give a fuck if anyone sees. Then he pushes her drink towards her, finishes his in one gulp, and says, "Let's go."
He drops some bills down on the bar - lord only knows if it's even enough to cover their tab - gets up, and walks out of the bar without her.
As much as she wishes she could take this Finn home with her, it's not like he ever has a problem taking control if he wants to. Christ, they'd never have gotten married if he couldn't do that very thing.
He's already checking them into a room when she walks past the hotel's front desk and hits the call button for the elevator. They get in with three other people, and Finn pulls her to the back with him, presses his chest to her back. The keycard is in his hand and his dick is hard against her ass, and he brushes his thumb over her rings like he's trying to reassure her or something. It's like he's trying to remind her that this is a game and he'd never, ever do this in a million years with anyone other than her. She knows that, obviously, and presses her ass back against him. Like a reward or something.
She feels like she can't breathe for wanting him.
He pins her between his body and the door to the room when they get to it in the hall. She can see a surveillance camera over his shoulder when he bends to suck at her neck. She doesn't know what it is about this game that makes him an exhibitionist, but she fucking approves. She pulls on his tie, tugs at it so his face is just above hers and he's leaning his forearm against the door above her shoulder.
"Open the door," she breathes against his lips.
They haven't kissed properly, even. Until he has her in the room and the door isn't even clicked closed behind them. He presses her against the wall and grinds against her, puts both hands on her face and kisses her hard, bruising her lips, she's sure, and forcing her to grab onto his lapels for balance.
Then, without warning, he shoves his hand up under her dress and rubs her through the lace of her panties, groans against her mouth when he finds how wet she is. "Your name," he says, pressing hard against her nerves. She moans and rocks her hips down against his hand. "Tell me your name."
"Santana."
Fuck. This is the best night ever.
She doesn't ask his name and he doesn't tell her. (They never make up names. Last time she said something about it being really hot that he's a 'stranger'. Maybe he's playing that up right now.)
The whole thing about the matching panties is really stupid, she realizes, when Finn pulls them down her legs and rubs her bare clit before even looking at the article he just took off her. Then his fingers slip inside her and she has to grab onto his arm hard, because she lifts one leg around his hip and she's unsteady on just one stiletto heel. Her dress is bunched up, but she doesn't care, not when he's nipping at the side of her neck, kneading her ass in one hand and fucking her with the other.
She's so, so close, and she knows he knows that (they're married; he knows all her tells) when he pulls his fingers from her body and trails a wet line across her collar bone. She moans - loudly - when he licks her skin clean, shucks his jacket and gets onto his knees.
She wonders if she offended him earlier with the talk of 'her husband'. Whatever it is that has him acting like this, she'd like to know so she can do it again sometime.
She sinks her hands into his hair and pulls him closer, even though his lips are already on her, and her head hits the wall hard when he lifts her thigh over his shoulder, opening her up for him.
"Mmm," he murmurs against her, letting her clit go from his lips. It makes an obnoxious sound and his tongue comes out to clean his mouth as he looks up at her with a completely boyish look on his face. "Gorgeous pussy," he tells her.
"Fuck." She snaps her eyes closed and pulls his hair, and then he's putting his tongue to good use and working against her nerves. He does something she swears he's never done before, or maybe it's just the angle and the fact that she's so fucking turned on she's probably wetter than she's ever been, and comes really close to yelling out his name. "Yes, baby, right there."
He finishes her (same way he always does, and she will never complain about the way he rubs the point of his tongue just to the right of her clit when he knows she's close) and laps at her as she comes, loudly, hands fisted in his hair and hips working against his mouth. She slumps back against the wall and he stands in front of her again. She loves these heels because they put her a hell of a lot closer to his height. He dips down and kisses her, pushing her own taste into her mouth, then tugs at her hair just hard enough to get her moving with him, away from the wall. She stumbles on her heels because her legs aren't ready to work yet, and Finn just wraps an arm around her waist and pushes the backs her knees right up against the bed.
"Take this off," he says gruffly, pulling at the fabric of her dress where he can hook his finger between her tits on account of her cleavage.
"Say please."
She's just dumb right now, from her orgasm. Possibly why she doesn't expect the hand that smacks down just hard enough against her bare ass, or the way he says, "Take it off," in a more serious tone.
"You do it," she says.
He just stares darkly down at her, and fuck, he's really going to town with this whole 'wearing the pants' thing. She finds the zipper at her side and lets her dress fall to the floor, but she's not taking her shoes off until/unless he tells her to. She grabs at the knot of his tie and works it loose with her fingers, and she wants to whine at the way he's not helping her undress him. She wants him now and she's loving this stupid game, but she also loves the Finn who needs to be inside her before his pants are even off. She knows all this isn't because he doesn't want to fuck her, obviously, but she's getting desperate and he's just standing there with his hands at his sides as she unbuttons his shirt. Finally, once she's got all the buttons undone and she's pulling his shirttails from his pants, he reaches for his belt. This stupid thrill runs through her, as though she really is about to see his cock for the first time.
Then he pushes at her shoulder so she's sitting down and looking up at him when he pushes his pants to the floor and kicks them off. He's hard in his boxers and she'd normally just go for it, but she's looking up at him and it's like part of her's wondering if she should wait for permission or something.
She loves him like this. It's amazing.
She can't take it any more and hooks her fingers into the sides of his shorts and pulls them down his legs. He nudges her thighs apart with his knee and her breath hitches when he steps between her legs. She's fucking throbbing again, but she also licks her lips and hears the groan he tries to hold in right before he pushes his hand into her hair.
God. When they get home and they're acting like themselves again, she is so going to reward him for this thing he's doing. And isn't that a weird thing to think? Whatever. She's got a mouth full of her husband's cock and he presses his hips forward so she'll take more. It's not all that odd that the only thing she's thinking about is sex.
He hits the back of her throat and mutters, "Take it, baby," and she chokes just a bit when she tries to moan around him. Fucking hell he's amazing right now. She pulls off, coughs the slightest bit and he looks down at her, takes his hand out of her hair and strokes the side of her face. Immediately he looks concerned, looks like her husband. "Sorry." She just shakes her head and licks around the head of his dick and his hips jut forward again. "Fuck, Santana."
This time the moan doesn't, you know, keep her from breathing, and his hand tightens in her hair. The insides of her thighs are brushing against his and, she swears, making her wetter by the second. She can't help it when her hand wanders down between her legs to touch herself. She's soaked and she wants him so bad that she think she can make herself come right now with her hand faster than she can make him come with her mouth.
"Stop," he commands, pulling back. She reaches up with her wet hand and wraps it around his cock. "If you want me, say so."
"Please," she breathes out, sounding totally desperate and not giving even one fuck about that. She leans back on her elbows and parts her legs more.
Finn just says, "I'm sorry?" like he has no clue what she wants.
"Fuck me. Right now."
He groans and she watches his jaw move as he clenches and unclenches his teeth. He strokes himself once, hard, and squeezes at the base. She's actually impressed that he's been able to keep it together when it's so clear that he's hard as fuck and wants this as bad as she does.
"Lay back," he tells her, and she moves herself up the bed quickly until she's back against the pillows. "Show me."
Fuck. There she goes almost saying his name again. "Baby, come here." She spreads her legs wide and he practically crawls towards her, drags his length through her wetness and gives her clit too much attention (no seriously). "Stop. I'll come before you're even..."
He sinks into her all the way, until they're stomach to stomach and she feels so full of him.
"I don't have a condom," he tells her, and her first reaction is to wonder why the fuck he cares about that. But he's committed to this, apparently, and he's still in character.
He's still a total stranger and not her husband.
"I don't care. Do not stop."
He chuckles - his Finn laugh, not his character's (god, this is hot) - and kisses her, then snaps his hips hard against hers and says, "I'm gonna come inside you, baby, 'kay?"
She can really only nod, because goddamn. He does it all the time - they're married and she's on birth control - but there's just something about him, this, right now, that makes the whole concept feel hot and dirty and so fucking good.
She slips up, just once, and starts saying his name. He kisses her to cut her off, twists his hips just right as he's fucking her and hits her spot. She bites at his bottom lip, says, "Again," and he shakes his head and completely disregards her request. It's not like Finn to deny her an orgasm. Normally he'd just double her up if she went before him.
"You don't come 'til I do," he insists, his hand on the side of her neck.
He pulls out and she seriously wants to cry, but then he says, "Roll over, baby," and runs his hands up her thighs, and she can't seem to get her body to move fast enough.
... ... ...
She knows she fell asleep pretty much right after she came last night. There's a fucking amazing ache deep in her muscles that she really, really loves, she discovers as she attempts to stretch off her sleep.
She's alone in bed. Finn's side is a mess, the pillow on an angle just like every other morning. She sits up a bit, wiping her eyes, and sees that his clothes are gone and her dress, shoes and panties are still on the floor where they fell last night. There's a moment of pure panic that he actually left her here alone and she's going to have to do the walk of shame. She's fucking married and that means not having to leave a hotel alone in last night's dress.
She looks over and sees the notepad on the bedside table next to the glass of water he brought her last night before she fell asleep. She's trying to remember if he spoke to her as Finn last night at all. She doesn't think so.
Thanks for last night. I'm sure your husband knows exactly how lucky he is. -F
She's torn between thinking it's really, really sweet, and being pissed at him for actually leaving. She tears the sheet off the notepad and folds it carefully in two, then tucks it into the clutch bag she has with her. She wants to keep it.
She's wondering what the hell she's supposed to do, because she's sure checkout is in about two hours. And anyway, she needs to go home and berate her dick of a husband for taking the game too far and actually leaving her, like she really was some kind of one night stand.
But then the door opens and he comes in with her overnight bag in one hand and a tray of Starbucks coffee in the other hand. He's wearing jeans and a tee shirt, and it's pretty clear he just went home and came straight back with a change of clothes for her, and some breakfast.
"They didn't have that muffin you love, so I got you the pumpkin scone," he says, setting her latté down on the bedside table right before leaning down for a kiss. "Hey."
"I thought you left."
"I left a note," he says, smirking, and she wants to be really pissed, but she just rolls her eyes at him and grabs her scone off the bedside table. "I didn't want to wake you up. Last night was..."
"Fucking incredible?" she supplies around a mouthful of her breakfast.
He's sitting there at the edge of the bed next to her, running his index finger around the top of his cup. "Yeah."
She leans forward, the sheets falling away from her body. She doesn't care that she's still naked. He looks, but doesn't say anything. "You were amazing," she says, lips against his cheek.
"Thanks," he practically whispers. He turns his head and brushes his lips against hers. "You were...God, 'Tana." She laughs a bit, quietly, and takes a sip of her drink, looks at him through her lashes. "I didn't think you'd go along with it the whole time."
She shrugs one shoulder and meets his eyes. "It was really hot."
He laughs again and leans in to kiss her, his hand covering her cheek. "Love you."
She rolls her eyes and reaches for her scone, takes a bite. "Love you, too," she says with her mouth full.
She watches him look over to the notepad with his note torn off, and he just smiles and sips his coffee and looks like he's pretty pleased with himself. She's not going to say anything about that, either.