Third Time’s A Charm
Pairing: Roman Sionis x Female!Reader
Word Count: 2.6k
T/W: Smut / thigh riding, glove kink? choking
A/N: Clearing out my drafts. I am very aware Roman is kinda terrible, but Ewan is gorgeous so:
The club was as usual: alive with vibrant streaming lights, voices chattering, and a drone from the d.j.’s booth made the floor vibrate softly underfoot. Normally you didn’t like to make an appearance, much happier away from the deliriously drunk crowds, but you hadn’t seen Roman in three weeks- and two days. . . you didn’t mean to keep track, but you couldn’t help it. Even though he had promised to come up and see you immediately after the negotiations he had to conduct tonight, you couldn’t wait any longer knowing he was right downstairs.
Stepping into his favourite silk dress of yours, the one that fell just beneath the curve of your ass, with an open back, you paired it with heels, and decided to have a little fun— after all you did give him that strip tease over the phone while he was away. Confidently, but carefully, stepping down the stairs, you caught clear sight of his usual table. It looked like some fancy upcoming hotshot was pleading for protection. Roman looked bored, you could tell his mind was already elsewhere. Biting in your lip, you smiled. Skillfully making your way over to the bar, unseen, the bartender greeted you by your first name, knowing you well enough by now, everyone did. You asked him for a tray with a glass of Roman’s favourite drink.
“Ah, jeez,” the bartender started, fiddling with his fingers, slightly nervous, “I’d love to, but- but Mr. Sionis told me not to let you waitress anymore.”
You shifted your weight onto the other hip, quirking your lips, a little let down, but not exactly surprised that he’d told everyone but you about this new rule, “well...I promise nothing’s going to happen to you,” you leaned in whispering sincerely, knowing it was easy to be scared of disobeying an order from Roman, “I’m not really waitressing, per se, think of it as more of a social experiment I need to conduct.”
With promised security from you, the bartender tried to be casual, looking around, but he mainly kept an eye on Roman whilst making the drink and handing you the tray. You thanked him and slid a few rolled 20s his way with a wink. Checking your hair in a nearby hazy mirror, you sauntered over to Roman’s table. The guy sitting opposite from him was stretched nearly halfway across the table, hands clasped together, begging. Roman was busy watching the performance, paying little attention to the whining kid in front of him.
“A drink, Mr. Sionis?” You asked from behind him, in your best waitressing voice.
“Sure,” he sighed, so annoyed that he didn’t even look up to you, “I’ll have-”
“Already ordered,” you carefully handed him the glass, making sure that your fingers touched, even though his were covered with his usual black initialed gloves, “and sent by special delivery.”
Once the drink was out of your hand, you slipped your fingertips along the slit of bare skin showing, at the base of his gloves, as you turned, walking away. By the time Roman looked up, you were already halfway across the club. Avoiding a look back, you were confident you’d gotten his attention. Softly setting the tray on the bar and biting the inside of your lip, you tried to repress the giggle swelling in your throat. Leaning forward into the bar as you waited, keeping your back purposefully to him, some unwanted company found you.
“Hey,” a stranger slurred beside you, slowly sliding in closer; he smelled like cheap cologne, “you wanna- shots, my place?”
Before you could answer: the whiskey glass you had just handed Roman was set forcefully between the two of you on the bar’s table top, a familiar gloved fist curled tightly around it. You flicked your eyes to look at the stranger for a moment, he suddenly seemed like a stray dog with his tail tucked between its legs. Returning your gaze forward, you straighten yourself up, knowing it was no longer your problem.
“Fuck off,” you heard Roman’s voice behind you, obviously aggravated; you couldn’t help feeling some sort of way with that being the first word you heard him say in person in weeks.
With the stranger gone, you suddenly felt cool leather touching your skin, starting at the base of your neck, Roman stroked a knuckle down your spine. Unable to ignore the tingling sensation spreading across your skin like settling champagne, you pushed back your shoulder blades and tilted your head, exposing the side of your neck to him. He took the opportunity, placing a linger kiss to your skin, you closed your eyes and sighed happily.
“Is that the perfume I sent you from Paris?” He breathed in the scent you had pressed onto your neck, his voice was just as erotic as you remembered it being.
“I’ve worn it everyday since you sent it,” you admitted, opening your eyes as he removed his hand from you, setting it against the metal edge of the bar, locking you between him and the counter. You could feel his lips lingering, so close to your skin. Attempting to control your already erratic breathing, you tried to breathe slower.
He hummed, but it was more like a purr to you. Almost placing another kiss to your neck, he pulled back, making you exhale disappointed, “turn around,” he told you instead.
You slowly did as requested, finding yourself a matter of inches from him. He eyed you up and down, “now there’s the view I like,” he said, gaze shifting from your figure up to meet your eyes. You maintained eye contact best you could feeling a blush rising. He smirked, taking a sip from his glass, “not that you don’t look fucking fantastic from behind.”
You broke into a smile, but he turned serious, dipping down slightly, holding your jaw in his hand tenderly, “I thought I told you that you don’t need to waitress anymore.”
Before you could say anything he was raising a hand to point towards the bartender. You quickly placed your palms against his chest, “I wasn’t-” he looked back at you with interest, but still kept his hand up, “I wanted to see you,” you blinked a few times, looking down, “keep an eye on you. . . since it’s been so long. I asked him to help.”
“Oh,” he breathed, lowering his hand and waving Victor away, “is my little kitten jealous?”
Roman hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your head up, making you look up through your eyelashes at him. He swiped his thumb across your bottom lip, you smiled softly, loving how the gloves felt against you, smooth and cold. Sighing with a smile he looked down to your dress.
“I like this,” he leaned back to eye you over again, slipping two fingers underneath the thin strap resting on your shoulder.
“It’s your favourite,” you reminded him; sliding your hands off his chest, pressing yourself against him, “nothing but silk,” you whispered, kissing just under his ear, before you began placing needy kisses along his neck while you tried to subtly center yourself on top of one of his thighs.
“Not here,” he pulled back from you completely, “I want you all to myself,” seeing the bambi look in your eyes, he downed the last of his drink, “get your pretty ass up those stairs,” he said, whiskey still burning his throat as he spoke, “I’ll be right behind you.”
You did as you were told, looking back half way up the stairs to see him talking with Victor, he was gesturing towards the poor soul that had dared to flirt with you. “Poor guy has no idea what’s coming,” you thought to yourself. Stepping back into the apartment alone, you weren’t sure if things were going to go according to the plan you had in mind. Sometimes he followed you, other times he was distracted by more business. But one thing was for certain, you realised just how much you had missed him and how he made you feel. You pressed your back against the wall, smiling to yourself.
“Now, that is a fucking perfect piece of art,” Roman said suddenly, drawing your attention to him as he locked the door and stepped over to a table, where he began taking one pair of gloves off, “now, I thought I told you I’d see you after negotiations?”
“I just missed you,” you smiled bashfully, “a lot.”
“Aww,” he smirked, glancing over to you whilst pulling on his white pair of gloves, he noticed the sharp inhale you took as you but your lip.
Continuing his walk to you from there he wrapped his arms around your frame, “baby, baby c’mere.”
You breathed in his cologne as he brought you closer, it was intoxicating. One hand traced down your spine, the other came to your jaw softly. Slipping his hand underneath the fabric of your dress, you felt him press against the small of your back. Inhaling sharply, your body naturally responded to his touch, pushing your chest against his. He had missed your body against his, he liked feeling your erratic breathing.
“Show me,” he said against your neck, thumb teasingly stroking the base of your neck; he easily parted your legs with his knee, “step out of those heels and show me what you wanted downstairs.”
You swallowed, meeting his gaze as he leaned back for a moment, “now,” he said, quirking an eyebrow.
Stepping one by one out of your heels, you softly kicked them away. Reaching your hands to the hem of your dress, you pulled it up a little to allow yourself more movement. Settling yourself atop his thigh, you placed your hands on his chest, you were desperate to feel some skin, but you weren't about to complain. Arching your back, you rocked your hips down against the slick fabric of his dress pants.
“Good girl,” he mused, caressing your sides with his hands, feeling your body move, loving every inch of you.
You were surprised how quickly it stimulated you. Pussy already throbbing after a few deep motions, you looked down, inhaling deeply trying to hold back a whimper, “oh no, no, no,” he chuckled, taking your jaw between his thumb and index finger carefully, “you look at me.”
You gave a small whine, making him smile. Determined to get more, you began unbuttoning his black dress shirt, you were happy enough when you reached halfway undone, allowing you enough room to spread your hands out against his chest, finally feeling his skin. You closed your eyes and bit in the corner of your lip, humming at the warmth.
“Harder,” he sneered, voice rasping.
You pushed up on to your tiptoes so you could grind your hips higher on him. One hand disheveling his shift from the desperate attempts to feel every inch you could of his skin, you clasped a finger through his belt loop with your free hand and tugged him closer to you. He said nothing, just moved a hand to your neck again. Palming the small of your back, he helped with the adjustment of your movements and picked up the pace. Gasping, you lifted a leg to slide up the back of his. He could feel your fingernails trying to dig into his skin at the edge of his shoulder. There was a knotting sensation rising in your abdomen, building, and building, and building-
“Roman,” you sighed blissfully, tossing your head back, lips parting in anticipation of your orgasm.
Immediately he tightened his hand around your throat, “don’t” he stopped all motion, pushing your leg off of him, “don’t you fucking dare.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to squeeze your legs shut too when he stepped back, but he was quicker, slipping a hand between your thighs in place of his knee. The leather was cold against the inside of your thighs, and he liked the way you shivered at his touch. He traced his hand slowly up your legs. With you twitching them together the back of his hand stroked one leg while the palm of his hand inched up the other. He gave your inner thigh a tighter grip and your body naturally jolted a little, making him chuckle at how sensitive you were for him.
Tilting your head to look at him, he was inches away from your lips and you wanted to taste the alcohol on his. He gave you what you wanted, lips meeting yours with a passion. He was already nipping at the bottom of your lip when you practically screamed into the kiss as he pressed his fingers against your clit firmly. The coolness of the glove, the deep circular motion he was applying, for a moment you thought you’d lost yourself. You were suddenly reaching down to grasp hold of his wrist buried under the silk fabric, unsure if you could take more teasing after he had denied you your first orgasm.
“Sweetheart,” Roman clicked his tongue at you, pressing teasingly soft circles against your clit, “be good.”
You moved your hands away from his wrist shakily as you felt him continue his motions. As he returned to tasting your lips, you found yourself spreading your legs as he deepened the kiss. He teased you, barely gliding his middle finger along your slick folds. Feeling yourself become wetter by the minute, you let him swallow your moans, until he began trailing his ;ips down your neck.
“Are-are you gonna. . . gonna keep them on?” You asked, barely able to make a sentence, hands grasping his biceps for support.
He nuzzled your neck, kissing it once more, “I know how you like it.”
You could feel how your pussy was pulsing for him now and he had you right where he wanted you. With a gentle push, two of his gloved fingers swiftly slid inside you, all at once it was your heat met by the cool material. After the first few pumps, you could feel his fingernails through the fabric against your walls with how tight his gloves were now that they were slightly wet.
“Roman!” you screamed.
He used his free hand to cover your mouth, “shh, babygirl” he hushed, fingers deep inside you, your slick making it easier with each thrust. He felt you moan against his hand and watched your eyelids flutter. You suddenly put a hand around his wrist and guided it down to your neck. He brought you closer to him, lips pressing a kiss to your forehead as he tightened his grip. He could feel your breath against the base of his neck, your lips grazing against his skin.
“Fuck- Roman,” you mused, shakily dragging a hand up to push back his dirty blonde hair, combing it between your fingers, “right there, Darling.”
He pumped his fingers deep and hard. Giving an occasional repressed whine, you stood on your tiptoes, attempting to get a new angle. Parting your lips against his neck, you kissed him while you still had your wits about you. But when you felt him curl his fingers inside you, it made your jaw drop completely, and chest heave. Feeling your thighs beginning to tremble, he removed his fingers from you, just in time.
“Shit,” you whimpered at the loss of pleasure again, leaving you shaking and desperately clinging to him, “Roman-”
“Hmm,” he softly chuckled, but there was slight sympathy, “I’ve put you through it,” you looked up, to meet his stare, mascara smudged from when you had almost been brought to the bring, but denied, “tell me what you really want, babygirl.”
“I want you to fuck me,” you admitted, stealing a kiss of your own. You pulled him to you by the lapels of his velvet jacket, he braced himself against the wall behind you with both hands. You ground your hips against his, unabashedly forcing the kiss to be deeper.
“So needy,” he said, with a chuckle, your lips still touching his.
“Roman,” you whined, eyebrows furrowing.
“Alright, you know what they say,” he pressed his thumb against your lip, stroking back and forth, “third time’s a charm.”
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