If I Can't Have you

(33) Cookie?

When Jemima tried to grind her hips to his, he used the hand that had been on her neck to slam her hips down, "you take what you're given, love, behave."

Tommy trails his lips down her neck, nipping at her collarbone, "you trust me to give you what you want, don't you?"

"Implicitly," Jemima nods, as his mouth works it's way down her torso, until he's looking up at her from between his legs, "then relax, let me pleasure you."

"What about you?" Jemima breathes out.

"This is for me," Tommy mumbles, using the pad of his thumb to slowly circle her clit, "your reaction to me is the only pleasure I'll ever need."

His mouth replaces his thumb, flicking his tongue against her clit, as he inserts two fingers inside of her, curling them up slightly, smirking when he hears her let out a gasp of pleasure.

"Fucking hell, Tommy," Jemima moans.

"Enjoying yourself?" Tommy chuckles.

"I'd be enjoying myself more if you took your top off," Jemima winks.

"So demanding," Tommy says, not yet taking his top off, continuing with his actions until he heard her almost breathless, her legs clenching... and then he pulled away.

"What the fuck, Tommy!" Jemima exclaims, as he unbuttons his shirt, "I'm just doing what you've asked of me."

He chucks it to the side, then moving to the hem of his undershirt, lifting it over his head, and throwing it by his shirt.

"Thomas Shelby-"

A whimper from her mouth cuts off whatever she was going to say, as Tommys mouth is back on her clit, sucking it, two fingers thrusting in and out of her.

Jemimas breathing is unregulated, uneven as she feels herself getting closer to the edge, gripping onto the tie that bound her hands to the bed. Tommys attention becomes more concentrated, not stopping even when her legs were shaking around his head, not even when the shouts of his name had diminished back to soft whimpers. He didn't stop until he was certain he'd ridden her through her high.

"You're a fucking arse," Jemima says.

"I was only doing what you asked me to," Tommy teases, "like seeing me without a top on, eh?"

"If you're asking if I find you sexy, you should be very unsurprised to know that the answer is yes," Jemima remarks, taking a deep breath as her eyes flutter over his bare upper half.

"As much as I enjoy having you bound to the bed, I rather liked the marks you left on my back last time," Tommy hums, leaning over her to untie the material, and free her hands.

"I hope you know I will be aiming to draw my initials this time," Jemima tells him, and he smiles down at her, amusement portrayed on his face, "how very possessive of you."

"Have you seen you?" Jemima retorts, "also you can't talk to me about being possessive, what is it you said to me? If I find another man's hands on you again, there'll be one less man on this goddamn planet."

"Have you seen you?" Tommy replies, peppering soft kisses beneath her jaw, "just looking at you makes me go weak at the knees, any time you walk into a room it feels like my heart is going to thump out of my chest."

He nips at her neck, "I mean what I said. I am the one courting you, if anyone thinks they can touch you, they are in for an extremely rude awakening."

"An awakening would suggest they live," Tommy hums, his lips close to her ear, "I think I summed it up pretty well the first time actually."

Jemima runs her hands down his torso, allowing her hand to brush over his crotch, causing him to groan into her ear, "fuck, darling."

She unbuttons his trousers, as his lips move to breast leaving hickies across her chest, before reaching down with one hand, lining himself up to her, and slowly thrusting in.

His mouth goes back to hers, and he takes pride in the way she's struggling to kiss him back. Her nails trailing down his back, leaving half moon indents on his shoulders that he'd happily be adorned in.

Jemimas back was arching beneath him, her chest being pressed firmly against his. He grabs a pillow from the top of the bed, tapping her hips signifying he wanted her to lift them so he could place it below them, a hand resting on her stomach, continuing to slam into her. Any previous control disappearing as the thrusts become needier, his groans becoming huskier and slightly croaked.

Tommy flips them over so he was beneath her, her hands resting on his chest as she grinds their hips together. His hands on her thighs.

Jemima stills on top of him, throwing her head back and calling out his name. Tommy sits up, keeping her steady as she kisses up his neck. When she feels strong enough to keep herself up, she pushes him onto his back, climbing off him, kneeling between his legs, and wrapping her hand around his cock.

She kisses the tip, dragging her tongue up the length of his dick, before engulfing him, bobbing her head up and down. His hand coming to move the hair out of her face, gently tugging when he feels himself about to cum as a warning.

Jemima continues, swallowing, and going back to straddle him, without putting him inside her. Tommy is struggling to catch his breath, but his hand comes to her throat, pulling her down so he could clash their lips together.

-

"I made breakfast," Jemima says, as Tommy walks shirtlessly into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around her from behind, his head resting on her shoulder, "morning, sweetheart."

"How did you sleep?" Jemima asks, raising her hand over her shoulder to caress his cheek, one hand stirring the scrambled eggs in the pan.

"Very well," Tommy replies, "how are you feeling this morning? Anything hurt?"

They'd gone six more rounds before falling asleep in the early hours of this morning.

"I ache a little, but it's sort of bearable," Jemima tells him, and his hands move to the top of her thighs, slightly brushing up his shirt that she was still wearing, as if the warmth of his hands would retract any pain she felt. It was a cute gesture.

"Alright, breakfast is served," Jemima says, dividing the eggs onto two plates, each with a slice of toast.

Tommy nods, removing his arms from around her, reaching for the plates and carrying them to the table whilst Jemima gets them cutlery.

Breakfast was not something Tommy was accustomed to having. Usually he was up earlier than everyone so made the excuse he'd had it before they'd awoken.

He had to admit, the food was splendid. Just as the dinner she'd cooked on their first date was. The portion wasn't even big yet he still found himself struggling to finish it.

"Has Ada spoken to you about next Friday night?" Jemima asks.

"No?" Tommy says.

"Her and Freddie have invited us all for a meal to celebrate their nuptials," Jemima tells him, "because they never got to when they first got married, so no complaints."

"I wasn't going to complain," Tommy dejects.

"Yes you were," Jemima says, and he sighs, "okay, yes I was."

"Tommy, it'll mean a lot to the both of them if you're there," Jemima says, "you're to them like what John is for us."

"You've convinced me," Tommy sighs dramatically.