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“Oh yeah? Well, I’ve got a suggestion for you. Why don’t you pull your tongue out of your boss’s ass, eh?” Billy snapped as the restroom door slammed shut behind him.
“Yeah?” You snapped back as you whirled around to face him, your anger getting the better of you. “I’ll yank my tongue out of his ass as soon as you stick yours in mine! How’s that?”
You paled when you realized what you had just said – what had just come tumbling from your fucking mouth. You avoided Billy’s gaze as heat filled your face and burned with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns (cliché metaphor but apt in this situation, you thought). Still, you caught the smirk on his face out of the corner of your eyes, and at the sight of it, something twinged inside you.
“Well, then!” Billy Butcher spoke with a chuckle. You heard him step away, his boots resounding on the tile away from you. You listened to the click of the lock latching into place, and that’s when you finally managed to wrench your gaze back onto him. Your blood rushed hot through your ears.
The smirk remained as he slowly strolled across the distance between you. “Gotta say, luv,” Billy spoke as he stepped closer to you than he had dared to step a few moments earlier. What you had hoped to be an adult conversation with him quickly became a full-blown argument. Knowing the way the conversation was heading would get you guys nowhere, you disappeared into the restroom to clear your head and regather your thoughts. What you hadn’t expected was Billy following you. Or the way the conversation was heading this time. “Never expected to hear that proposition fall from your lips!”
You shook your head. “Forget I ever said it, Billy,” You spoke, pride keeping you from apologizing for sexually propositioning him. Jesus fuck! You thought with horror. Did I just sexually harass Billy fucking Butcher?
You imagined being hauled into HR the next day, only to find Billy sitting in a chair across from your HR rep, the very picture of overexaggerated sadness.
“No, no, no, now why would I do that?” Billy asked. “If it’s what I gotta do, it’s what I gotta do, after all!”
Your brain short-circuited. You blinked a few times, dazed and confused. “Wait, what?”
Billy didn’t respond. His smirk remained as he slowly began gathering up the hem of your skirt in his hands. Your heart slammed against your ribcage as you watched him. The warmth of his rough palms running along your thighs sent your head spinning off into the ether.
He fell to his knees in front of you. His fingers curled into your panties and slowly drew them down your legs. His dark gaze bored into yours, and for a moment, you convinced yourself that you hallucinated the hunger that danced through them alongside the glee.
“Billy, you don’t . . . I was joking, actually. I didn’t really mean --”
“Oh, were you, now?” He asked smoothly. He spread your thighs, and your hands dropped to curl around the countertop tightly as if for dear life. He shimmied forward on his knees and lifted your leg to drape over his shoulder. This close, you knew he could see everything – all of you – and this time, you definitely didn’t hallucinate the hunger in his eyes. “You could have fooled me with how wet you are right now.”
“Jesus Christ,” You whimpered when you felt his tongue on you then, light and teasing. Your stomach entered free fall, and your chest heaved as your heart seemed to thunder in your chest. His tongue skimmed you before leveling a series of teasing flicks against your clit. “Billy . . .”
Your voice broke around his name, and you glimpsed his smug smirk. His hands tightened on you as his tongue grew more confident. Its pressure increased as the strong muscle slid through your lips and traced your bud.
Pleasure zipped along every nerve in your body and centered on the ones between your legs. There was a pulse there now, fed and stoked by Billy’s mouth on your slit.
His groan surprised you and cut through the fugue of quickly rising desire in your head. You looked down and caught him looking back at you, his brown eyes almost black with desire. “You’ve been keeping yourself from me, luv?” He growled. “You taste so fuckin’ good.”
As if to pound the point home, his tongue filled you then, and the moan you released then was louder than you had intended. It bounced off the tiled walls, panic spiked within you, and you slapped a hand against your mouth.
Billy laughed and shook his head. “No, no, no, luv, if you’re gonna make those noises, you’re not gonna cover ‘em up! I wanna hear how good I make you feel. I wanna hear my name when I make you scream it.”
Your stomach swooped. Billy’s tongue filled you again, and you felt his fingers on you, teasing lightly over your clit before moving to your entrance. When he withdrew his tongue from you, only for his fingers to replace it, it moved upward. Flicking against your nub, he drew it into his mouth and sucked. Your hips twitched as you released a very undignified squeak and stiffened above him.
He chuckled and did it again and again, earning a similar reaction each time. “Mmm, I wonder what other sounds I can make you make . . .”
His fingers scissored, and that, combined with the suction around your clit made the pulse in your cunt worse. You whimpered his name, hips moving, and when he groaned again, the sound of it went straight to your soul – a jolt of desire sent straight to the heat swirling between your legs -- in your clit and your pussy.
“Yeah, go ahead and ride me, luv,” He growled. “If only you could see yourself right now – how beautiful you look. How wet you are for me. Gotta get you wetter, though . . .”
"Why?” You asked, and words fell from your lips once more before you could stop them or think. “So you can slide your big dick inside me as soon as you make me scream your name?”
Billy chuckled. “How do you know it’s big?”
You snorted a laugh. “Are you kidding me right now? Fuck, Billy, don’t be disingenuous right now, please!”
“You fantasize about me then?” He asked as his fingers curled upward, searching for that spot inside you that made you see stars. “Hmm, luv? You finger yourself at night thinking about how big my cock is?”
“Billy – Billy, please . . .!” You whined, hips pressing down on his fingers, helping their search. You weren’t about to tell him how right he was. You refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing how frustrated he made you feel on a daily basis. Even after the times you screamed at each other – especially after the times you screamed at each other! How your fingers inside yourself never seemed to fill you quite like his were at that moment.
His fingers found what they were looking for, and they pressed against it as his mouth on your clit became too much. With a scream of his name, you splintered to pieces around him, hips jerking, thighs quivering, hands sunk deep into his hair. You came hard, slicking his fingers and your thighs with your arousal, pulling forth appreciative sounds from him.
Billy worked you through your orgasm with gentle licks and swipes of his tongue. Then, he slowly withdrew his fingers and rose to his feet as you remained there, dazed, basking in the fleeting remnants of the overwhelming pleasure he had just given you.
The tinkling of metal filled the air as he undid his belt. He paused. “This all right, luv?” He asked, and you swallowed hard and nodded before you spoke.
“Yeah. You got a condom, though?”
“Fuck, yeah, be right back.”
You heard the lock click again before he left the restroom. You knew you should have left then before this could go any further, but your legs felt like Billy had somehow transformed them into rubber. The more you thought about it, the more you realized you had zero intentions of going anywhere. Instead, you slowly maneuvered onto the counter and waited for him to return.
Your wait didn’t take too long. Billy returned moments later and stepped back into place between your spread legs. His gaze locked onto the place between your thighs he had been worshipping moments ago, and he released an appreciative hum as his hands slid along the insides of your thighs. His thumbs brushed your wet, heated flesh. You shuddered, and then his hands disappeared. They worked to undo the button and zipper of his jeans as the foil-wrapped condom remained clenched between his teeth.
You couldn’t help but grin at the sight of it. “You keep magnums in your desk drawer?”
“Well, luv, you never know when they’ll come in handy!” He replied with a wink as he tore open the package with his teeth. He spit the foil onto the floor as he rolled the thin prophylactic over his member and pinched the tip. He then stepped forward and gripped your hips, pulling you closer to him until it felt like your butt was poised right on the very edge of the counter. You wrapped your legs around his hips, ankles hooking together, and your stomach swooped again as he slowly guided himself into you with a groan. “Fuck!”
You weren’t wrong about him being big. The stretch of him alone threatened to undo you. Still, he felt impossibly good, and after a moment, you whined and bore your hips down in a silent plea for him to move.
In all your wildest fantasies, you never once thought you’d ever actually be fucking Billy Butcher (though the setting could definitely be better). You were pleased, though, that the real-life Billy Butcher was currently smashing your Fantasy Billy Butcher into smithereens while calling him his little bitch.
True to form.
“Yeah?” Billy asked. His voice was a husky growl that made you feel all kinds of warm, fuzzy feelings inside. “Gonna fuck yourself on my cock if I don’t move?”
You answered with a breathless laugh. “I’d really prefer not to, but I will if I’ve fucking got to!”
Billy laughed, too, and reached up to palm your breast. His grip on your hip pulled you down onto him while he rocked his hips against you. You huffed in frustration, and your fingers fumbled at the buttons of your shirt. The bra you were wearing clipped in the front, and you were so, so happy you had chosen to wear that one when you were getting dressed that morning. You unclipped it, and your breasts spilled free, nipples pebbling in the air-conditioned room, and Billy sighed.
“Now, that’s more like it, luv.”
His palm felt rough on the sensitive skin of your breast, scouring your nipple. You arched your back, pressing more of yourself into him while taking as much of him as you could. His hand on your hip moved, and you felt his thumb on your clit, rolling and rubbing, and you cursed as you felt an orgasm rapidly building inside you again. You made a mental note to thank whatever woman in his life made sure Billy Butcher had good bedroom etiquette.
“Oh, God, Billy . . .” You gasped, suddenly finding it difficult to catch your breath. Your hands scrambled for purchase, nails scrabbling along the counter and the mirror behind you. Your legs opened wider, anything to get more of him inside you, and if Billy noticed how badly your legs were shaking, he didn’t comment on it.
“That’s right, that’s it, luv, come for me,” He groaned, his breathing labored now. “Need to feel you . . .” His voice broke as he added, “Need to feel you come . . .!”
So close, you were so close, dangling over the edge, really. It only took one last swipe of Billy’s thumb over your clit before you fell to pieces again, your voice hoarse as you wailed his name. Billy groaned again, his hand tight on your breast as he watched you come part because of him.
“Yeah, that’s it, luv, come all over me,” He rasped, his thumb prolonging your pleasure. His head fell back. “Fuck, I love feelin’ your tight little pussy comin’ all around me!”
“God, Billy!” You gasped with a laugh, “Fuck, man, that was –”
His lips smashed against yours, interrupting you. You squeaked in surprise before the combined pressure of his lips, his thumb on your clit, and his hips slamming into yours overwhelmed you again. Your mouth opened, and his tongue slipped past your lips and teeth. You tasted yourself on him as your kiss turned sloppy.
You moaned and felt yourself on the verge of coming again. Your hands rose, curled around Billy’s arms, and then you were coming again, with a high-pitched moan he greedily swallowed. You felt delightfully oversensitive, the slightest touch tripping you over to smaller and smaller orgasms until you thought you couldn’t handle it anymore. It felt impossibly wet between your bodies, the sloppy sounds of him thrusting into you mortifyingly lewd. His thrusts grew disorganized, and a whimper you never would have expected to ever hear from him fell from his mouth.
“Fuck, you feel so good!” He gasped, his grip on you tight – so tight. “I’m gonna come in a minute. Gonna fill you up --!”
“Take me out for dinner a few times, Billy, and maybe you can fill me up and not a condom.” You quipped.
Billy broke out into laughter, which abruptly curbed into a deep-seated groan as he finally reached his peak. He came with a whisper of your name that sent pleasant tingles radiating from the base of your spine. His hips stilled and quaked against you, and he remained like that for a moment before the two of you collapsed, boneless, against each other and the countertop and mirror.
“Fuck, Billy,” You spoke after a moment. “That was –”
“Were you serious?” He asked, pulling back to look you in the eye. “About wanting me to take you out to dinner?”
Your eyes narrowed, and you bristled against him, suddenly irritated. As much as you could be, anyway, with his dick still stuffed inside you. “I don’t know. Are you asking me out so that you can eventually come inside me?”
“What? No,” He scoffed as he shook his head. “Believe it or not, breedin’ kinks aren’t really my thing. So, don’t you worry your pretty little head – I’ll wear condoms for as long as you want me to. I still do want to take you out for dinner, though.”
You relaxed. “Okay. Why, though?”
He shrugged. “I like you. You’re all right . . . for an FBSA stooge.”
You gave another breathless laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me?” You asked, only to realize by the shit-eating grin on his face that he was purposefully needling you. You rolled your eyes and pushed on his chest. “Get out of me; I need to get home to feed my dog. I’m late.”
Billy grunted and slowly pulled himself free of your body. You shuddered at the feeling. “Shit, I’m going to miss that."
“What?” He asked, voice full of heat and amusement. “Being stuffed full of me?”
You hummed your agreement as you started to pull your clothes back into order. Billy threw the tied-off condom into the wastebasket before he tucked himself back into his jeans. He then bent and picked up your panties to hand back to you. You took them with a muffled thanks as he spoke again.
“Why miss it?” He asked as he held a hand out to help you down from the counter. You took it and slid down onto your feet before you slipped on your panties. “Take me home with you, and I’ll make it my personal mission to keep you stuffed full of me all night long.” He told her with a grin and a cheeky wink.
You didn’t bother to deny to yourself how tempting the suggestion was. The thought of curling up in your bed or on your couch with Billy and takeout before he proceeded to make you come God only knew how many times in one night, made a shiver of delight skate up and down your spine.
As much as you liked the thought, though, there was also a whiff of domesticity you knew would make Billy run for the hills. Fucking was one thing – when you fucked, the only thought in your mind was when you were going to get your next orgasm. That was fine with Billy – that was the optimal fucking goal. But what happened when you weren’t fucking? When the two of you ate that takeout in bed or on your couch – what were you doing to fill the silence? The thought tempted forth a laugh.
Billy didn’t do deep conversations. He didn’t do intimacy. He ran from domesticity and human connection like his ass was on fire.
“Sorry, I can’t,” You apologized with a smile. “I’ve got a lot to do before work tomorrow. Lots to catch up on.”
He nodded, but you caught a flicker of something in his eyes (disappointment? Longing, maybe?) that made you pause and briefly reconsider. “But-but I’m all for doing dinner one night!” You added. “Tomorrow, maybe? Tonight’s just not that good for me.”
You remembered how he kissed you. The suddenness of it. What you had done together was fuck – a quickie in the restroom of the offices he worked in. Something unfeeling and emotionless. It didn’t warrant kissing. Kissing was a suggestion of something deeper. You guys didn’t have anything deeper, though! You fought because your personalities clashed like two opposing storm fronts. You argued because there was no possible fucking hiding the fact that you couldn’t stand each other!
Then why did he kiss you? Why did he suggest going back to your apartment with you? Why, when you turned him down, did he look so goddamn disappointed?
He smiled, and that look in his eyes disappeared as he nodded. “Yeah, course! I’ll text you?”
Something remained within him, even if you could no longer see it in his eyes. Something that made every one of his movements seem almost mechanical. It made his gaze fidgety – like it was hard for him to look at you. He appeared nearly. . . hurt?
Something inside you twisted. Did Billy Butcher have feelings for you? Since fucking when?
Explains why he jumped at having sex so quickly, You thought with a sinking feeling. The man didn’t even hesitate!
“Billy . . .” You reached out to him, not knowing what to say but feeling like you should say something. He pulled away, avoiding your touch.
“I’ll text you,” He repeated with a stiff nod and a sniff. “Tomorrow sometime, yeah?”
You nodded and felt a burning in your eyes you hadn’t anticipated. “Yeah. Tomorrow. That works.”
The awkwardness that descended then was almost unbearable. You mentally curled in on yourself, not knowing what you were feeling, just that its presence was foreign and confusing.
As if he could sense what you were feeling, Billy stepped forward. He took your hand while his other slid along your arm. “Hey,” He spoke quietly. “I will text you tomorrow. All right? I promise.”
You nodded. “I know,” You replied with a tight smile, relieved because you knew Billy always kept his promises. “I look forward to it.” You murmured as your hand squeezed his. His gaze softened, and his mouth opened, but before he could speak, you moved past him to the restroom door.
You stepped out of the restroom and immediately found every single pair of eyes boring holes into your body. MM, Frenchie, Kimiko – thank God Hughie wasn’t there! Anxiety spiked within you, and you swallowed hard and self-consciously smoothed down the front of your shirt, no longer tucked into the waistband of your skirt.
“That was not, um . . .” You sputtered, conscious of the collective weight of their gazes as your hand waved through the air by your head. It was occurring to you suddenly that they had more than likely heard everything. Or close to everything, anyway. Mortification filled you as they waited patiently for you to say something. “All that in there was not what it seemed like!”
The door opened behind you, and Billy stepped out, wiping his mouth and chin off with a paper towel. You glared at him, aghast, while Frenchie snickered and looked down at the table he and Kimiko were sitting at.
Billy glared back at you. “What?”
“Are you fucking serious?” You hissed with a wave toward the other people sitting there. “Did you fucking know?”
“O’ course not!” Billy snapped back. “You think I get off to the knowledge that people can hear me fucking?”
“Oh, I don’t know!” You replied, anger rising within you again. “It seems right up your fucking alley!”
“Oh, come off it!” Billy rolled his eyes. “They slipped in after I fetched the condom – how was I to know?”
You rolled your eyes again and pushed past him to the door. “Whatever. I’m leaving. I need to get home.”
“Talk to you tomorrow, luv!” Billy called with what you knew was another shit-eating grin. “Can’t wait for our date!”
Frenchie took off in a string of French that had your ears burning. Fuck you, Billy Butcher! You thought, only for the small-sized version of him in your head to grin and go, Sorry, luv. You already did that, remember?