Prized Possession {Negan}

Chapter21: Party

Your eyes flicker between his hazel ones, speechless at first. He always told you you'd never make him say it. But he'd just said it. Right there in front of you. Negan, THE formidable, doesn't let his guard down, doesn't have feelings, Negan had said those three words. Well, technically four, in true Negan fashion, because that guy can't let a sentence pass him by without a cuss thrown in for good measure. But still, he'd said it. You just prayed to God it wasn't some messed up, half conscious illusion.

"Just going to fuckin' stare at me, doll?" He snaps you out of your head, the whole situation seeming a little more real than before. "Oh come on, I thought I'd made it fuckin' obvious." He mumbled, a slither of insecurity dancing around in his gruff voice and for what felt like the first time, it was like you were truly seeing his guard come down ever so slightly.

"You said I'd never make you say it." You eventually found the voice to remind him. Negan let out a breathy chuckle,

"yeah well, even this guy can change his fuckin' mind." He tells you, "and I mean it, doll. Which is why you're going to tell me who the fuck did this to you so me and Lucille can go have a fuckin' party with their brains." You see the anger reignite in his stare, clearly he'd forgotten for a moment the situation at hand. You didn't know what to tell him, you didn't want to drop Sherry and Dwight in it, because you promised them you wouldn't, but Negan was clever and he'd figure it out for himself. You couldn't bring yourself to lie to him. You needed some time to figure out your plan.

"Well that party can wait...whilst we have a party of our own." You lean forward as much as your restraints will let you and kiss him once. "Are you sure you don't want to untie my hands?" You check, your breath dancing against his stubble framed lips. You feel them pick up in the corners as he smirks.

"Oh I think I'm pretty fuckin' sure, babydoll." He chuckles, opening your legs and pulling you onto his lap as best as he can with your hands still tied to the pole. You squeal at the sudden movement and wrap your legs around his waist instinctively. He smothers your lips with his, his teeth carelessly tugging at the delicate skin of your bottom lip. You kiss him harder as the passion builds more and more, making you breathless and dizzy. Your lips become puffy as his break away and trail down your neck, over your pulse as you feel the sharp pinch of a bite. A low groan leaves your mouth, slowly which only seems to encourage Negan more as he grasps at the material of your dress, the black material easily making way to reveal your black, 'Negan approved' lacy bra. Negan nips hungrily at the skin he's exposed, a low growl resonating from his chest. You arch your back to his touch, closing your eyes in ecstasy as you tilt your head back to lean on the lead pipe you're still tied to. The burning feeling of the tight ropes around your wrists that once felt uncomfortable now only caused a higher rise of adrenaline. Naturally, you still fought them, wanting to strip the clothes from the muscular body in front of you so you could touch it. But as per usual with Negan, just because you were his, didn't automatically make him yours, something that made the heat between your legs intensify. You truly were at his mercy. Anything he wanted from you was already his. Anything.

Negan's large, rough hands pushed their way up your thighs, your dress bunching at your hips, revealing yet another 'Negan approved' item of clothing to match the first. But apparently, he didn't want to waste time appreciating this one, as it was instantly tugged to one side. He made just as quick work on his own clothes, undoing his belt and undoing his trousers, his impatience clearly making him lazy. In one swift movement, your legs wrapped instinctively tighter around his waist, his hands lifting and supporting you as they cupped your ass cheeks and within breathless seconds he was inside you. You let out a loud groan, arching your back even further and closing your eyes tight. His first large arm wraps around your small waist keeping your body as close to his as possible, the other snaking up the middle of your now slightly sweaty body as his large fingers encase your delicate neck with ease.

The lack of oxygen works just as well as usual as you feel your orgasm build in the base of your stomach, your toes curling, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“What do you fuckin' say, doll?” He growls, his breath hot and thick against your ear.

“P...please.” You manage to stammer out.

“Please fuckin', what?” He teases, his thrusts becoming purposefully more aggressive, grinding on your sweet spot.

“Please can I...cum, Daddy?” You gasp, the lack of oxygen making the room spin, but the euphoria that comes with it is second to none.

“Such a good little girl.” Negan purrs, his teeth grazing your ear lobe. “Of course you can, Princess.” You don't need any further encouragement, you finally let go, the orgasm flooding your entire body, light spots invading your vision as Negan finally allows that all too much breath. Your legs shake around him as you feel his thighs tense beneath you, knowing it's now his turn. The words that leave his mouth are indistinguishable, his fingers digging deliciously painfully into your skin as he reaches his own climax.

———

It took you both several moments to recover properly, Negan finally untying your hands. Your shoulders ache as you bring your arms back in front of you, and you realise there is a dull ache in your head. Negan returns to laying on his back on the cold cement floor next to you.

“Well, doll. That party was great, but back to the one that involves Lucille and some brains. Who did this to you?” He asks. You bite your bottom lip. You didn't really know why you were protecting Dwight and Sherry when them leaving the picture only helped you. You'd finally be the one and only wife, you'd finally be his and he would be yours.

“How do you feel about losing another wife?” You ask. Negan lets out a long breath.

He turns onto his side to face you as he speaks. “As long as it's not you, babydoll.”