Crocodile Request
A long-term relationship was a rare thing to witness in the Pirate world. Especially a relationship with someone of the title of Warlord. Such a name carried with it responsibilities and worries that many normal people could never handle. A title of power. But also a title of labor. This was a title and business Sir Crocodile had grown accustomed to and, by extension, you had grown accustomed to as well.
Your relationship with the Warlord was not something publicly announced, though it was not meant to be kept horribly secret. You would both wander the streets of Alabasta during the evening when it was coolest and speak of affairs happening in the country or the Grand Line as he often had a paper in hand. But you wouldn’t exactly go to the creators of said paper and announce that you had been the one warming his bed and offering him a shoulder rub for years now. Crocodile had been warned that bringing someone into this world could pose danger for them, even for someone who had grown up in this lifestyle, yet neither of you held much care for that. He was strong and surrounded by an organization that held a power unlike any other you had come across.
What was there for you to worry about?
Alabasta was a beautiful and sad country to explore during the day. Crocodile was a busy businessman who often wandered off during the day to attend to affairs, meaning you were often left alone if not with Ms. Sunday on some occasions when someone especially dangerous had made their way to the country. You had no Devil Fruit powers nor any amazing abilities that could have kept you safe. Still, you felt safe in this land with this man.
“Do you have this in gold, perhaps?” Your voice was sweet to the shopkeeper, who leaned against his table. He was one of many selling goods and wares that day, though something on his table had caught your attention almost immediately. Small, metallic figurines of different animals, shaped by heat and melted together to be painted with different designs. Of course, a crocodile had caught your heart right in the center of the table and you just knew it would look especially good on Crocodile’s desk in his office. Ms. Sunday stood at your hip, shoulder to your back as she cast a watchful eye around, but her lips did twitch when she spotted exactly what had caught your attention. The man waved dismissively and stood with a grin that had three teeth chipped out of the picture.
“Of course! Any color you want, I can have it! Just a moment, please!” When he vanished past the flaps of the tent behind his stall Ms. Sunday released a small noise of amusement.
“Another gift?” She asked. Ms. Sunday was an enigma. A business partner to your partner who held no interest in much, but she did find some kind of amusement in the relationship you two held. Nothing spiteful from what you had seen, though the way she observed you both made you nervous at times. It was nice to have someone to talk to, however, as many others from Crocodile’s organization didn’t often come through and Ms. Sunday was always around.
“Another gift.” You confirmed a shy smile on your lips. “He’s been very busy, so I want to try and do something nice for him. I was hoping to find something to make him dinner tonight…” You trailed off, turning when the man exited the tent. The gift would be wrapped and paid for in minutes, tucked away in the satchel that hung off your shoulder. The extra weight made it stretch past your hip slightly and you rested a hand on it when you two started back down the street.
This had become a routine for you. The times Crocodile grew invested in his work you would often find yourself planning something to help him relax when it was all over. Often times it would be dinner. His own personal chefs would be dismissed early after lunch and you would take over in the kitchen, preparing something just for you two. Desert, of course, would follow, then often time spent just for the two of you.
A time that had you blushing from not just the sting of the Sun.
Sir Crocodile, as a lover, was insatiable. That showed when he would find himself denied of physical pleasures for a long time due to his work, which would end up being released usually on the evenings you cooked dinner for him. Many times you would spend the next day recovering in your shared room with him, lounging in bed as someone would deliver your meals and prepare a nice bath just for you.
“What are you going to cook for him tonight?” Ms. Sunday didn’t often make small talk, but you appreciated it when she tried. She matched her pace to your own and you cast a glance up to her, aware that your chin would have only brushed her chest if she stepped close enough.
“Kefta.” Your smile was bright when you spoke. “I’ve been wanting to make it for him for a while. I even made sure to contact someone local a week ago to get the lamb I wanted for it.”
“You think ahead well.” The compliment caught you off-guard and you immediately looked away, pretending to be acknowledging the stands as people yelled at those passing by to offer up deals. “I’m sure he’ll enjoy it.”
“Thank you.” You had expected silence to follow, but Ms. Sunday surprised you and continued to speak.
“I do have a question for you, however.” She paused in step when she spoke and turned to face her attention to you. You stopped, stunned, and looked up at her.
“Y…yes?”
“Should I send staff home early before your dinner is finished?”
Your cheeks burned and you tried to squeak out an answer around the sudden memory of the unlucky staff intending to clean up Sir Crocodile’s office instead of finding an unforgettable scene before them. A scene that had them facing the wrath of a man they had never seen before.
Unable to speak, you simply nodded and turned to hide your fluster. Ms. Sunday didn’t laugh, thankfully.
“I’ll make sure you both remain undisturbed for the evening.” Then, a spared glance. “And that you’ll be served in bed tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” You squeaked and choked, chin ducking low.
Shopping usually took up most of your day. The heat would become unbearable at a certain point and that would usually be when you would traverse back to the casino. Workers at the casino would greet you warmly, simply referring to you as “Mr. 0’s Partner”. A simple term, but one you had grown to enjoy as they often gave you small smiles. A difference from the silent, solemn stares you had received the first few greetings when you and Crocodile’s relationship had first started to grow serious. Ms. Sunday would leave your side once you entered, running off to attend to her own business. You knew your way around enough that she wouldn’t have to lead you and there wouldn’t be a soul in here who would dare lay harm to you. Not if they valued their life, at least.
One of the workers would inform you Crocodile was in a meeting, as you had expected, and you would discard his new gift in your own private room and set towards the kitchen. It was spotless. Freshly cleaned from the staff who had been dismissed only an hour before your arrival. Your own supplies were still fresh and you didn’t hesitate to set to work on the dish you wanted to provide.
Cooking would be one of the few times you were allowed to be alone with only your thoughts. Rarely would anyone other than Crocodile himself disturb you in this moment. So, these times would be times you would let your mind travel. Thoughts of what you would do this upcoming week would sometimes come through. Considering you held no stake in Crocodile’s business, most of your time would be spent shopping for him, running to local stores, or even speaking with locals about changes they’re hoping the Warlord could make for the country. Other times you would pursue your own hobbies in private, undisturbed, and usually making things to tuck around your private room. Crafting was an easy hobby to pick up in Alabasta, where many trades of art came through, so you were always well-supplied with things to do.
Other times, however, your thoughts would change from what you’d do the upcoming week to who you would be doing that upcoming evening.
Such as now, as the heat in your cheeks burned to your chest as you hovered near the stove, mind teetering on the last time you and Crocodile had shared such an evening. Absently, your hand touched the edge of your collarbone and you recalled of the bite he had taken there. The bruise had remained for nearly a week until lit finally started to fade, the entire time you refused to unbutton any shirts or wear collars down. He found it amusing beyond belief, making it a point to show it off if given the chance. Then you thought of how needily he would hold you down. How strong his hand was when he gripped at your hip, his body covering yours like a blanket of ecstasy and heat. The sounds he would make could have driven you over the edge any day, but in those moments of desperation, there would be a moment when he groaned so low in his throat it edged into a growl and you melted every time.
Then you thought of the praise. Oh, the praise.
And his size-
The food! A sudden smell of meat edging onto too well cooked had you stirring the meatballs before you, swaying them around over the heat as you chewed on your lip. With the crisis averted you tried to busy yourself to keep from thinking back to that last stray thought, yet it continued to persist. Really, it shouldn’t have been as taboo a feeling as it was, but you couldn’t bring yourself to even think about it in private without growing far too flustered. There had been times you had attempted to mention it in the past. Attempted. Every time you brought it up you backed out at the last second. It felt like a dirty secret you couldn’t just blurt out even in the heat of passion. You worried he would find it strange, or perhaps he would mock you for it. Crocodile was a kind man to you in many regards, but Crocodile himself was not a nice person. You had witnessed that plenty of times and counted yourself lucky you had never made him as mad as some people had in the past. He had wrath about him you could only compare to the ocean: unforgiving.
But yet you found yourself even now working up the courage over a saucepan to once more attempt to bring it up.
But how could you? Would you simply wait until he’s in bed and simply say ‘I enjoy that you’re twice my size?’. Should you tell him he’s bigger than you and you like that? Would it ruin the mood of the night you both have been looking forward to for a while now as he’s worked endlessly? You doubted he could easily forgive you for something like that.
Perhaps-
“You’re running late, Tesoro.” The rough voice startled you and droplets of sauce scattered on the counter when you whirled, heart hammering and face flustered. You felt caught by the golden gaze and only settled when he cocked an eyebrow in interest, obviously confused by your sudden reaction to his appearance.
“You’re here.” You were breathless when you spoke and he shifted the cigar from one corner of his mouth to the other, lips barely twisting up.
“You’re late.” You didn’t care. The food, waiting to be plated, was ignored as you quickly traversed the kitchen to meet the man standing in the doorway.
Crocodile’s arms were warm and his cologne was thick enough to choke, yet it couldn’t hide the familiar smell of his cigar smoke that reminded you completely of him.
“Croc.” The term was a whisper between you both. A term he didn’t mind so long as others didn’t hear it muttered. A private thing between the two of you. The difference in size and height became obvious when you tilted your head up and found your chin barely brushed the center of his diaphragm.
He’s so big. And that thought had you hiding embarrassed cheeks into his clothing, nudging with your nose at his ribs until his hand curved to stroke your hair back.
“You’ve been busy today.” Crocodile’s voice vibrated through his chest and you shivered at the feel of it, turning finally from his touch to look at the newly prepared meal. “I’ll forgive you for being late. But hurry. It’s getting later the longer we stand here.” Crocodile would never admit to being impatient out loud. Not for what you were impatient for either, but after being in a relationship with him for so long you just knew. Your nod was felt and you broke apart from him momentarily to finish serving the plates, listening as he shuffled through the kitchen to retrieve something. You wouldn’t have time to clean up after yourself tonight, yet you tried to leave as little of a mess as possible for the staff who would be returning. Crocodile’s eyes followed you the entire time. You could feel them and you tried to keep a quick, steady pace as you scooped up the meals and set to following the man with two curved glasses in his hand.
Not a soul in sight would be seen on the walk to his office, where you would both share a meal before retreating to the room. You knew Ms. Sunday would be to thank for that. Crocodile’s office was spacious. It was dimly lit, surrounded by water and ferocious Bananagators that he prized himself for owning. They swam in circular patterns and eyed their master and you, briefly tilting as though to size you up until your familiar face caught the light. Bored, they would return to swimming patterns, only pausing to acknowledge when Crocodile approached not his desk but the table pushed to the side.
The table only you and he would sit at.
When this near-monthly pattern started, he had purposely put it over there for nights like this. A clean cloth was already on it and an unlit candle awaited for his familiar lighter to click and light it. The glasses were filled quickly with a prized drink of his he kept stored in a private stock and you served the food just as he pulled your chair back for you.
“Have you kept yourself entertained while I’ve been busy?” This would always be the first question he asked you whenever he pulled his seat in. The glinting of his hook was ominous when he propped it on his thigh, but it would remain there the entire time he ate. He didn’t use it when he ate with you. There was no need for it when you both intended to take your time for the evening. You knew there would be a time to come he would take it off. Maybe after dessert.
“I have.” You would take the first bite, nervous about the taste of the dish until it settled on your tongue. You sighed in a mixture of relief and enjoyment and settled for small bites, poking at the thicker meatballs until they fell apart. “The shops were restocked. I even picked you up another little gift.”
“You spoil me.” His lips twisted just lightly and he adjusted the cigar from his mouth. It balanced on the ashtray tucked on a smaller table perched away from the food and he settled into slow bites as well, eyes trained on the dish. “Another delicious meal. You continue to impress me, don’t you.”
Your heart skipped a beat and you were very quickly reminded of the bravery you needed to find for your upcoming conversation.
Crocodile was very much aware of how you reacted when he offered you sweet words. He enjoyed it very much too, if his smirk was anything to go by when your nerves made it hard to poke at one of the meatballs. You cleared your throat and turned your gaze to his eyes before immediately looking away. Already his gaze was filled with a simmering warmth threatening to engulf you in a wave of heat.
“Croc, I-” You swallowed, poked at more food, then quickly took a hefty sip of the stout wine he always offered. Maybe it would offer you more courage to speak, but every time you caught his curious gaze as he tilted his head just slightly, urging you to continue, the words stopped somewhere in your chest.
Crocodile never paused in eating.
Perhaps this was why it was so hard to speak: he was surprisingly patient with you. He waited. And waited. And waited. Even when you had nothing to say in the end, he remained patient and watched until you shook your head and bit down on your lip. Each time he would let it go, simply changing the course of speech to something else.
Surprisingly, however, this night was not a night like that and when you bit your lip and started to shake your head, he placed his fork down and spoke.
“Is there something wrong?” You blinked up at him in silence for a beat before immediately shaking your head.
“Oh! Oh, no, nothing like that! I just…I, ah…”
You need to speak. Say something. Anything. A twitch in Crocodile’s brow signaled his patience was slowly edging away and your heart was thundering louder into your chest. Could he hear it from there? The only other noise came from the sounds of the beasts circling around, watching possibly amused as you were swallowed into a pit of your own nerves. Breathing grew hard for a moment and you swallowed one deep breath before closing your eyes.
“Speak, Tesoro.” It was a command. A rare command with his voice deep and sudden and you spoke before you could stop yourself, eyebrows coming together.
“You’re big!”
Silence. Not even the sounds of eating and your heart finally shuttered to a near stop, sweat catching on the back of your neck. You felt a chill before he made a noise. A creeping feeling, like that of a mouse being stalked by something unseeable-
Then he chuckled.
Crocodile’s chuckle reminded you of thunder. Rolling and building into waves that tore through your very core and had you sitting straighter in your chair, finally opening your eyes to find amusement clear on his face.
“Enlighten me on your words.”
“Y…your size.” Purposely, Crocodile was slow with his movements as he took his own drink. He sipped it, unlike you, who still nervously swallowed mouthfuls to calm your nerves that sizzled like the charged air before a storm. “Height wise and…everything else, wise. Your hand is…big. Just…you’re big.”
“Does that bother you?” From the tone he chose, he knew the answer before you would speak. The corners of his mouth pulled up when you shook your head.
“Not…no. It doesn’t.”
Tell him.
“I…like that…you’re bigger than me.” He waited and you closed your eyes again, unable to look at him when you spoke. “I…like it a lot. Especially in…well…in bed when you’re on top of me and….and…”
“Keep talking.” Another command, though this one had your eyes opening suddenly and catching his gaze as you swallowed those nerves down, replacing them with a sudden warmth that came from how hotly he was looking at you. The food was abandoned, you both knew this, so you made sure to tuck the fork back onto the plate before yous poke again.
“It’s…nice when you have me pressed down…under you. Especially if you’re…ah…” Your eyes drifted and you felt his touch before you registered it. Fingers pinched your chin and you were pulled to stare back at him, eyes locking to catch how the gold in his eyes simmered.
“If I’m what, Tesoro. Tell me.” Breathy, not a whisper but not the same commanding tone he’s used on you twice now. Almost soft if you had heard that voice from anyone else, but you couldn’t describe Crocodile as soft even on his best days. Even now. You swallowed and he felt it on his middle finger.
“Behind me.” You too were breathless when you spoke, though you gave away much more emotion in your words. Your arousal had started low, becoming more known as you shifted your thighs against each other. Briefly, did he lower his gaze to watch you squirm. Then he was back to your eyes. “Chest on my back…just…holding me down and fuc…doing that.”
“Say it.” Your whine was unintentional and he moved closer, his chair slipping back as he rose to press over the table. His face was before your own, pupils blown wide and he licked his lips quickly. “Say. It.”
“W-when you’re holding me down and-and fucking me-”
His mouth was against your own in a mere second, the words finally cracking the wall of tension you had both built as he lapped lazily between your lips with his tongue. Crocodile had no build-up on nights like this. No edging or teasing with soft pecks or brushed kisses. No, his tongue gave sweeping, wide movements to break past your lips and capture you into a kiss of passion. Remains of his dinner blended with the taste of wine and a faint taste of his cigar. Both of your hands found his shoulders as he cornered you against your chair, his body curling over you like a blanket as he kneeled slightly, giving you an easier angle to keep the kiss going. Any whine or whimper you released was swallowed immediately by his greedy tongue, drool gathering at the corners of your mouth when you found yourself overwhelmed by his actions until he finally broke it to swipe a tongue over your bottom lip.
“I want more of those pretty noises, Tesoro.”
Crocodile was a powerful lover. His size, his strength, and who he was as a man ensured that. Determined to get what he wants from you, he would never hesitate in pulling out every trick he had in his hand. Including the newfound information, you had finally spilled to him, which spurred him until finally curling both arms around you and pulling you from the chair. His strength to pick you up as though you were nothing would shock you every time, earning a shocked, high-pitched noise as his hand steadied on your hip and the blunt end of the hook pressed into your back. Pressed against him, all you could do was wrap your legs around his midsection and hold tight as he carried you through his office. The walk was short with him. Long legs carried you clear through the room and into the shared bedroom connected through a small hallway, tucked away for required privacy. The bed was large. It had been long before you had ever gotten involved in his life, as Crocodile needed space to stretch out at night, but the decor in the room had definitely changed since your appearance. Small gifts littered shelves in the room. Treasures he kept close to you.
You didn’t have long to look around, however, as Crocodile was on a mission that included depositing you on the bed.
You looked up at him with your lips swollen from the intense kiss and your chest rising rapidly. Your thighs rubbed together once more to relieve some pressure and he made quick movements to unhook and remove the hook from his free arm. It had become something of a habit. When you had asked him long ago why he removed it he had simply told you he had not wished to hold any accidents from it, even if small. Your place wasn’t to question it, as you knew there were things he kept from you, so you treasured how careful he was in regards to you. It made a loud ‘thump’ sound when he deposited it to the side, making sure it was securely on a table before he set to work on his clothing.
Crocodile was always dressed as though he was to go to a meeting. Even in the desert, where the heat peaked to deadly levels, he wore expensive clothing that carried a certain status with it. You assumed his Devil Fruit had been the reasoning as to why he was unbothered by the heat. Quickly you pushed up off the bed to balance on wobbling knees and reach for the buttons his one hand worked away at, catching how his eyes followed your every movement. If he had wanted to he could have easily stopped you the moment you started to move. He didn’t. He watched how quickly you managed to undo the buttons of his vest and part it open to tug the green cloth from around his neck. It dropped first. Without his coat, the vest was light to pull off, his white shirt following as your fingers set to work on the buttons there. The entire time he watched you chills broke out across your arms and back, causing shivers.
With the last button of his shirt in your grasp you paused. You waited, to see if he was going to let you continue, then you plucked it apart and nudged the shirt off his shoulders with a sweep of your hands. His skin was startlingly hot and smooth. Muscles remained poised, unmoving under your touch from the control he held over his own body. You knew your hands were cold, yet he didn’t flinch as they brushed the shirt down his arms, tugged it off, and settled back to trace down his chest to his stomach. Crocodile was a fit man. He worked hard to maintain his body and you knew that, which is why you always enjoyed a moment like this where you could appreciate him through touch alone.
Just as your hand started to traverse a little lower, edging along thing hairs, his hand finally slow you down, catching your chin again to pull you into another breath-stealing kiss. You couldn’t focus when he kissed you like that, which he easily took advantage of and swept a hand down your sides, cupping your body through the clothing you wore. The style you wore was always loose. It never showed whether your body was defined or not, how thick your thighs ended up, or how wide your shoulders were. It left everything up to the imagination for many except the one man who had explored your body plenty of times. His hand knew the path before you did and your gasp was swallowed by his tongue as his fingers pressed at your core through your clothing.
“So wet.” He muttered against your lips, pulling back to bare teeth to your neck. The patience he displayed earlier had waned and he was eager to taste you. All of you. Made obvious between the swipes of a tongue and nips from his teeth that chased past the collar of your shirt towards your shoulder and collarbone. Your gasps and hisses turned into a loud moan when those fingers pressed through the cloth of your pants, rubbing just along your puffy folds. Already you were so turned on by this man that even that brief touch left you aching for him. Desperately, your hips jerked forward to chase those fingers and he clicked his tongue before he pulled them back to tug at the strings of your pants.
“I can’t touch you if you’re clothed.” A deep tone of need was conveyed when he tugged harshly until the strings came loose, the waist of the pants drooping suddenly over your hips. Crocodile curled over you then and used his size to advantage: he had you pinned between him and the many pillows you enjoyed having. Braced on the elbow of his free arm, his hand finally wiggled past the edge of your pants and those fingers found your exposed core quickly. The skill to which he would be able to bring you to the edge was astonishing. Your hands were desperate to latch onto something. Anything to brace yourself as those fingertips continued to prod and poke and nudge at just the right spots. He knew where you were most sensitive and he made certain to only glance over that particular spot. Your clit was aching and burning when his thumb finally made contact, after dusting around it in slow, mocking circles. Sudden pleasure bolted through your nerves and you couldn’t contain your moan even if you wanted to, body arching directly into his and head turning to hide your bright face amongst the pillows.
“Watch me.” A familiar order. Crocodile was a man born to take charge. Sex with him was no different, so when he made the order you didn’t hesitate to turn back and try to keep your eyes open and on his. He licked his lips in a slow presentation and you felt your empty hole clench around something. “You’re exceptionally needy today, aren’t you?” It would have been mocking if he wasn’t so entranced with how you clenched whenever he brushed a finger just around the edge of your hole. Each time your body jerked. Spasms haunted you with the promise of finally being filled and whines broke out whenever he pulled away.
“Please, Croc, just-”
“I got you.” There it was, that tender tone as his mouth planted a slow kiss to the edge of your mouth, pulling away before you could connect them. You gurgled another desperate noise and he was nudging your shirt up with his teeth, searching for a bright nipple to take between teeth and tongue. “I know what you need, Tesoro. You’re doing so well for me.” His words were heated against your clavicle and he licked a line along your chest before finding the other nipple, grinning around it as your body reacted by arching completely against him. His hot words muttered against your body did nothing to quell the fire burning below and you desperately chased after the hand he offered you. Those fingers were curling, rubbing circular motions around your clit until your thighs flexed and shook-
He pulled away.
“Croc, no, please just-”
“Shh.” And that hand nudged your pants further down, ignoring how your complaints rose in pitch until your mouth was desperately seeking something. Anything. His chest offered a wonderful distraction as you nipped your own marks into his flesh, focusing on the rumble of pleasure that vibrated under your teeth. Your pants were knocked away with a brush of his hand until you were able to kick them the rest of the way off, to which his hand took up residence at your hip. The strength he displayed earlier returned as he turned you with a single hand, angling your chest to the bed and your ass presented for him. Bare for his eyes as he continued to move just out of your range of vision. The bed would shift under his weight, however, and you only had the warning of a warm breath on your thigh before his tongue suddenly brushed contact with your cunt. The immediate feeling was indescribable. The point of contact felt like lightning. Far too hot for you to handle and causes you to arch away while simultaneously dragging you back in for more. Crocodile’s arms curved and you found yourself trapped at the waist, legs forward further open by his shoulders as he settled himself between your legs. His tongue was as merciless against your cunt as it was in your mouth. Anything that pulled a specific noise from you was emphasized. If brushing his tongue around the edge of your clit had you gasping then he was flattening it across it, licking in waves just to feel how your muscles flexed when you thrust back and forth to get away from him. He didn’t care how sensitive you already were. All he cared about was how quickly back to the edge he could pull you, tongue-swirling patterns you couldn’t follow. Tears threatened to fall and drool started to gather between gurgled moans of pleasure. His hand dug into the fat of your hip and he pulled you in further, mouth open wide to practically swallow around your cunt. Had you been able to think you would have noticed the motions of his actions reminded you of sloppy kissing, but the only thing you could focus on was to hold onto the pillow with all your strength. You tried to roll from side to side just to loosen his grasp some but nothing worked.
“You taste so good.” His voice was muffled against your thigh but you heard him clear enough. Your hole clenched and he felt it with the thickness of his tongue, slipping it just past the flexing ring and feeling how your thighs tightened. His tongue was nowhere near the size of his cock, but he knew he would have to prepare you generously, as always.
You were smaller than him even at average height for a human, so he always had to take care before he fucked you.
It was often why you found yourself so torn apart the next day after. Crocodile was a lover that could be rivaled by no other and he intended to prove that every time he took you to bed. The edge you had been teetering at came back in startling force. You wouldn’t have been able to warn him even if you could speak, voice gone to sounds of pleasure as you finally wiggled one hand under your own body to seize him by his hair. It was surprisingly soft despite the product in it and he sped up his ministrations when you gave a tug, attempting to pry him off of you. It was too late, however, and your pleasure peeked into one big wave of slick that drenched his mouth and chin, glistening even along his jaw. Your body flexed like a spring before stretching out, arms and legs shaking with the effort to not immediately wrap around his head and shoulders. Crocodile rode your orgasm out with pride. That tongue continued to roll patterns until both of your hands were desperately at his hair and he finally picked you from him, edging you down so he could place a wet kiss on your stomach.
“You did so well for me.” He muttered, eyelashes fluttering when he looked up to meet your gaze. Your hands shifted and cupped his cheeks to brush thumbs just under his eyes, watching how they halfway shut at the touch. Then he moved so suddenly you could only release a small noise of shock. You were under him once more, chest still to the bed with your ass pushed back up for his display once more. It was hard to hold this position with your body still shivering in post-orgasmic aftershocks, but his hand steadied you before he braced you against his thighs. The bulge of his cock brushed over your cheeks and you whined loud enough it could be heard through the pillow.
“Please.” You begged, rolling your hips back to trace the length of him. Crocodile hissed and his hand dropped, fingers immediately back to your puffy entrance to draw out a strangled sound.
“You haven’t even taken my fingers yet.” He chided softly, though he wasted no time in poking at your relaxed hole with two of his fingers. It didn’t require much to stretch you out once you had reached your peak, though he still intended to take all precautions necessary. You received those fingers with a low, deep moan into the bed, eyes fluttering shut to focus on the feeling of being so full on just two fingers. Those fingers flexed and rolled inside you, twisting until they pressed up against your spongy inside and traced further and further until you were gasping lightly. You felt full despite knowing you had room to take more, which only had you clenching around those digits at the thought of what he would offer next.
“Eager.” He muttered hotly when you clenched again, curling his fingers and finally pressing a third to the rim of your stretched hole. It took some wiggling to fit it and you hissed in the burn of the stretch before relaxing, feeling how the weight of his other arm braced at your hip. “So eager for my cock, is that it?”
“Yes, please, Croc.”
“And you beg so nicely. All for me. My little treasure-my treat, just for me.” Those words were muttered to your spine, mouth curving to press hot, open kisses along your back. You started to arch to chase the affection when he pulled his hand out so suddenly it left you falling forward, mouth open wide in shock. It didn’t hurt, though the shock of being left so open after being so full always left you feeling strange.
Then you heard the sound of his pants shuffling and you immediately snapped your mouth shut.
“I think for being so good to me you deserve a nice reward.” You heard his belt first. Then the buttons. Then the tug of a zipper and cloth shuffling. When his weight didn’t shift you knew he didn’t kick his pants completely off. They would vanish later, but for now, they were pushed down just enough for him to pull his cock out and stroke along it, sighing in relief as he took some of the pressure off himself. Having gone untouched this entire time his cock was in a desperate state. Leaking, swollen, and vibrant at the tip: it was a delectable sight for you as you bared a glance over your shoulder.
When he caught you licking your lips he chuckled low and finally brushed his tip along your folds in sweeping, gathering motions. Slick glistened along the tip and he stroked it down with each motion. He wouldn’t stop until his entire length was shining under the lighting. Then you felt it: the first brush of him against your hole and you unintentionally clenched, desperate to feel so full again. It popped past the first ring of pressure and you gasped, eyes closing when the first inch pressed in. Then another inch. Then another. He paused, watching how you handled his cock through slitted eyes, then pressed forward even more until you were clenching around the pillow and him. His hand curled under to brush along your clit and you shuddered. You felt on the edge of too much from how much he filled you, but the pleasure his fingers offered continued to help you relax as he pressed further and further until his pelvis pressed flush to your body.
Connected, he stroked his hand away from your clit to pay attention to the rest of your body, fingers searching for a nipple to twist lightly before finding the back of your neck to hold himself steady.
“I want you to touch yourself.” He ordered, tone low. His voice wavered slightly when you clenched around him, eyes narrowing further until you wiggled a hand under to timidly touch yourself. You choked on a moan and that would be when he would first move. The stretch of his cock pulling nearly out of you left you with that strange empty feeling again, until he pressed forward faster than before. His tip found resistance deep inside you, pressing firm against something that wouldn’t let him pass. He was careful when he began to fuck you, meaning to not cause too much damage with the difference in size between you both.
But when you clenched one good time after minutes of a steady rhythm had passed did he lightly curse and thrust so sharply it jostled you into the pile of pillows. Any noise you would make would be muffled from then out, his hand tightening around the back of your neck until it started to sting as his hips took up a much harsher pace. Every thrust drove you further into the bed and it was why you were thankful he would let you keep all these pillows. Desperately you tried to steady yourself with your free hand on the pillow while the other managed to keep a sloppy pace with his thrusts, fingers helplessly rolling around your already abused nub. The pleasure and pain his body offered mixed into a strange, beautiful blend that finally had the tears pouring down your cheek. Pressure burned deep in your stomach. Either from the blunt end of his cock hammering away at your deepest parts or the ever-growing feeling of another orgasm, you couldn’t be sure. All you could focus on was the physical connection of your bodies. He wouldn’t let you focus on anything else. That mouth of his set to work marking you up like a territorial beast. Teeth lashed bruising along your spine and shoulders, working away until something deep in him was satisfied. Between bites, he grunts and hisses into your ear, pleasure starting to peek low in himself as well.
“C-Croc-”
“So good.” He groaned, nose prodding in the space behind your ear. “So good. So tight. Look at how well you’re taking me. Always take me so well. But I need you to come for me, okay? Tesoro, could you do that f-for me?” A stutter of his hips signaled his growing end. Tension peaked with each word gasped into your shoulder, then his teeth nipped at the edge of your ear and that simple spark of pain helped tilt you further down the edge. When you clenched around him he groaned like a beast. A bear made less noise than him when he finally finished, hips snapping close with a single sharp thrust that kept him buried to the hilt. A pause, then the instant flood of warmth and cum filling you took hold. You almost didn’t realize he had come inside you, so caught up in how your cunt spasmed around the cock still in you and muscles threatened to seize up just as they relaxed. Your hand strangled the pillow and your fingers twitched against your clit for several seconds before your body went limp, gasping hot breaths into the ruffled sheets and blankets below. Sweat started to cool across your naked body and Crocodile remained hunched over you, his hand now stroking tender marks down your back and ribs.
“Tired?” His voice was rough, exerted from the noises he had made, though it was nowhere near as affected as your own. You whined slightly and he chuckled, the noise vibrating against your back when he settled like a blanket across you. “Relax. We have the night to indulge. I’d rather you be awake for it.”
“I’m fine.” Your voice croaked lightly and you reached to the table where a pitcher of water was awaiting. Planned, perhaps, though you wouldn’t ask as you focused on pouring a glass and sipping it tenderly. Crocodile would pull from you only when you sat the glass down, watching with a gleam in his eyes as you gasped and his cum dripped out of your opened hole. His hand caught and spread yours further for him to watch.
“Perfect.” He said though it was spoken like an afterthought for himself. You hummed, flustered beyond belief at how exposed you felt before he released you and fell to his side slowly. His arm tucked you close and he pressed his nose to your forehead, simply holding you. “Recover fast. I’ve been in need of you for a while.”