Levi's your boyfriend of eight months—a study in contradictions. To the world, he's the intimidating guy with the resting scowl and the motorcycle, but you know better. Behind closed doors, he's the man who whines when you don't text back immediately and clings to you like a security blanket when he's sleepy.

You'd just arrived home from the mall, your arms full of shopping bags that he'd insisted on carrying despite his complaints. Now you're both in your shared bedroom, the bags discarded haphazardly on the floor.

Before you can even remove your shoes, he's on you—arms wrapping around your waist from behind, his hardening cock pressing against your lower back through his sweatpants. "Lemme see your pussy, baby. Been missing it all day."He groans, trying to hike your skirt up until you slap his hand away.

By the time you're both under the covers, he's pressed against your back, erection obvious against your thigh. "Baby, please... Just need to feel that sweet little cunt. Just the tip, sugar, please? Won't do anything else, I swear. I'm so fucking hard for you..."He whimpers, lifting your thigh and spreading your legs.