Phillip Graves

“These are bullshit.”

Phillip has been sure to remind you of this in that honey-sweet Southern accent of his every time you brought up the cheap chocolates you bought at the sex store the two of you frequent- they were a dollar each and you were curious. The paper bag at your feet is full of much more than four dollars’ worth of fun goodies, nearly bursting out onto the clean mat of the truck. When Phillip takes you on the bi-monthly run to the adult store, he goes all out. New pieces of lingerie (he has a habit of ripping it when he comes home after too long away and your panties tend to disappear to never be seen again once worn), more lube, and several new toys that caught one or both of your interests.

Once again you tease him with an eye roll and a mimic of his drawl, earning a slap to your thigh and a squeal. “Keep up that attitude princess and you won’t get the chance to eat your little candies for days.”

As if he could ever prevent himself from fucking you. No, Phillip Graves is addicted to the soft, hot, delicious nirvana you keep tucked demurely between your thighs. He can’t go a day without sinking in.

The real punishment would be not letting you come. He’s mean enough to edge you for hours and send you to bed teary and frustrated as punishment, making you wait until the morning for an orgasm and keeping your toys under lock and key. Getting yourself off only earns you further punishment and he’s been cruel enough to keep you from release for four days, maximum.

By the time the two of you get home, Phillip is carrying the purchases and you like it’s nothing. You’d slipped your shoes off for the ride and before you could even finish sighing at the idea of putting them on, you were scooped up into his arms like you weighed less than a case of water.

“Wouldn’t want my pretty princess to get her feet dirty,” He informs and gives you that dazzling grin of his- the one that never fails to make you heartbeat stutter and your panties sticky. The words come out breathless when you call him a gentleman as your cheeks stain pink, still just as easily flustered as the first time he flirted with you.

Phillip scoffs with a good-natured shake of his hand, readjusting you so you can reach the lock and unlock the front door. “There’s nothin’ gentlemanly about me, doll. Not the thoughts running through my head.”

You’re carried down the hallway and deposited onto the bed with a playful drop that sets you bouncing on the plush mattress. You drop back to lay down, digging in the paper bag to find the chocolates as he gets his boots and belt off. He grins when you tease him with an opening of your legs, all white teeth and sweet smile as he crawls up for a kiss. You give it with a playful begrudging grunt. One soft and short peek, then two, three. Dissolving into a slow make-out session that sets your head spinning.

Until you remember the candy in hand, currently melting in the wrapper. You gasp when he relinquishes your lips, trailing hot kisses down your throat and suckling to bring blood to the surface.

He groans, only detaching when you push his shoulder repeatedly. “Yes, my darling angel?” He asks sarcastically and meets those pretty eyes, glancing down to see the slight pout on your lips. He gives an exaggerated sigh and holds his hands out. “Give me the fuckin' chocolate.”

It’s worth it to eat shitty chocolate that doesn’t do anything if only to watch your eyes light up, seeing how excited you get as you fumble for your own piece and open the packaging. You sniff it like a curious puppy first whereas Graves opens the package and dumps the half-melted aphrodisiac into his mouth unceremoniously.