The Only Exception - {TOM HOLLAND}

T E N*

You're already a mess.

The only thing that's happened is both of you climbing into bed, Tom holding your wrists above your head, making out for God knows how long, and him basically devouring your lips, jaw, and neck. There is no doubt that tomorrow it's going to look like you went head to head in an MMA fight or something like that.

"Fuck, Tom," you bite out, arching up into him.

He looks up at you, his gaze dark and full of want as he bites teasingly at your exposed breast, your nipples hardening from his continued ministrations. Your head falls back onto the pillows, and your eyes slip shut, letting you totally relax and focus on how good you feel in this moment. Tom kisses down your stomach, his fingers wasting no time as they pull at your underwear, sliding the offending material down and off your body.

"You too, come on," you say, and use your foot to swat at the jeans he is still wearing.

Tom's...everything flexes as he sits up and quickly rids himself of his jeans, leaving him in obscenely hot Calvin Klein underwear. You don't realize your jaw is slack until Tom leans forward and uses his fingers to shut your mouth with a smirk.

"You'll catch flies darling," Tom teases.

You repeat what he says in a very childish manner before leaning up to kiss him, your tongue gliding against his. The kiss lasts for a moment, washing away the playfulness and bringing back the passionate heat of the moment. Tom breaks away and reaches for the side table drawer, sloppily rummaging around until he returns with a small bottle of lube and a condom—and you're happy he had the brains to grab those two very important items. Then you're being lightly pushed back down until you're laying flat, and Tom is positioning himself much lower.

When you realize what he's doing your eyes go wide, "you don't have to—"

"And why wouldn't I?" He asks in a gravelly voice, pressing feather light kisses against your inner thighs.

You inhale sharply, "uh...I mean most people I've been with don't really...they never wanted to do that."

"I want nothing more than to do this for you, birthday girl," Tom says, sounding so sure of himself.

Before you can say another word, his fingers spread you apart and his tongue is running against you—

"Fuck!" You gasp, your lower lip now between your teeth as you bite down hard.

You really can't remember the last time you had sex let alone the last time someone went down on you. Maybe it's from the drinks, or maybe you're just too out of it to really tell for real, but Tom seems to really know what he's doing. It feels fucking fantastic to be completely honest. His tongue swirls around, his fingers doing what his tongue can't. He has you shaking and squirming quickly, so much so he takes one of his arms, and presses it against your lower stomach to keep you semi-still.

Arousal burns bright within you, your spine tingling with it. You bend your knees a bit, toes curling into the soft duvet comforter, trying to have control of something when it feels like you have control over nothing but focusing on how good Tom is making you feel.

Your hand moves down and tangles in his hair, still wet from the rain, and it pulls such a sweet sound from him. He sucks on your clit, tongue flicking at the sensitive bundle of nerves, all the while the sound of a cap popping open echoes through the room. The next thing you know Tom's pressing a finger into you, the lube making the glide easy and pleasurable.

"Oh, please curl your finger a little—" you try and explain.

Tom gets it, and his finger is pressing against that particular spot inside that makes you shake and see stars. You let out a shaky moan, wanting to move but unable since Tom is still holding you down. After a bit you can tell he's still trying hard, but his motions are getting repetitive and the lovely build up is starting to fall before it can hit its crest.