Striker

He'd never let you get ahead of yourself.

---

Letting you ever make him beg for it? Simply no. If he wanted it he was going to get it. There was no begging of pleading, there was no endless teasing, and there was no way he'd let you take control.

You were a succubus, giving you perks. You could go for hours without getting tired and could handle almost anything. Usually, Striker would go until he tired himself out. Sometimes he was slow and sensual, sometimes he was rough and made you see stars.

Still, even with your perks he wasn't going to be a bottom. Not even close. It didn't matter how much you begged, how many times you asked him, how many times you went to your knees to convince him, it still was a no.

That is until you convinced him, slightly.

Sure, you had to promise a few things. Butter him up. Hell, your plan was to just go along with it without asking. And it was working so far.

You straddled him, giving him soft praises as you kissed along the collum of his neck. A limp smile was planted on his lips as his fingers dug into your thighs.

The feeling of your hands on his skin was enough to rile him up, not to mention how you scratched underneath his skin or grinded against his lap. He wasn't growing suspicious, not at all.

---

"Fuck... Darlin'-ngh~!" He was completely at your mercy, his hands tied behind his back as you abused his cock. His nails dug into his palms, his head tilting back as moans continuously escaping his lips.

His back arched, his eyes rolling off as drool stained his chin. He wanted to touch you so bad, to flip positions and punish you for making him feel like this.

"To rough-fuCK~!" He panted, his stomach tightening as his breath hitched. "D-dont make me beg for it.."