This whole thing started because you called him a pussy. Some jackass grabbed your ass while he’s singing “AYO Technology” and he just laughed when you told him. Then again, he was so fucking drunk he could barely walk, which you found rather disconcerting considering he was working. You kinda chocked it up to his ex being there. He could say all he wanted that she was a bitch and she deserved what she got but he still has a soft spot for her, still wants her to do well. You reached this conclusion when after her less than great performance he switched from Jack and Coke to just straight Jack.

When some cockmunch grabbed your tits, he just rolled his eyes and sent security over, which pissed you off even more, which of course he didn’t even notice because he was so fucking wasted. It boiled over when you were taking the elevator to your villa and he started grinding on you in the elevator, breathing heavy in your ear, telling you how much he wanted you. And that’s when you said it.

“Are you sure you can even do it?”

“What?” he steps back and looks at you confused, his eyes hazy from alcohol.

“I just wasn’t sure how a pussy who has to send his security to defend his girlfriend could fuck her.”

You’ll never forget the look on his face. His body went rigid and his eyes blazed, stepping back from you as if he had been physically struck. He scoffed silently and you could practically feel the anger radiating off him as you rode the last twenty floors to the Sky Villa. You stepped off the elevator but he stayed put. When you asked him what he was doing he just glared at you and hit the thirty-seven button, and the doors closed on him.

You just sighed and tried to let it go. You kind of regret it now because you did sort of want him, well you always want him and he is so much more kinky when he’s drunk. It makes you wet just thinking about it. You’d make it up to him. He could never stay mad at you, especially if you were naked, which you planned on being when he got back up here.

Pulling your shirt over your head you hear the elevator ding. Shit, he always ruins your good ideas. You slide your pants down your hips and decide that bra and panties is almost naked and you’ll let him do the rest. He loves undressing you anyway. You peek your head out, making sure it isn’t his mother or someone else that really doesn’t need to see you in such a state just in time to see him disappear into the kitchen.

You smile devilishly as you follow him on tip toe. You slide through the door and he has his head in the freezer, apparently looking for something.

“Hey baby,” you coo, jutting a hip out and he reappears from behind the freezer door.

All sexiness is forgotten as you gasp when you see blood dripping from his nose and mouth down his chin and onto his undershirt. His eyes are swollen, the skin of his face puckered and molded. You stare at him dumbly as he pulls and icepack from the refrigerator and leans over to spit blood into the sink. His movement sparks you to action.

“Oh my god, Justin what happened!” you exclaim, rushing forward and touching his face. He pulls away from you, flinching as your fingers come in contact with his bruised flesh. He swats your hands away, still glaring as he presses the ice pack to one eye. You notice that his knuckles are bruised and cut open. “What happened!” you demand, stomping your bare foot impatiently, wincing as it stings from the linoleum floor.

“I fucking defended your honor that’s what fucking happened!” he spat, more blood oozing from his mouth.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“I went back down to the party and found the bastard that touched you and I kicked his ass,” he says, sticking his chest out a little but deflates as he continues. “I was doing fine until his boys came along.”

“Where was Tiny?” you ask and he pulls the icepack from his eye and throws his hands in the air.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he booms and you jump, stepping back a little. “You’re whole fucking problem was that I used security in the first place!”

“No it wasn’t!” you exclaim defensively and he raises an eyebrow at you. You shift your feet. “Okay maybe it was but I didn’t want you to get hurt you dumbass!”

“Fuck you,” he spats, sending more blood into the sink and brushing past you, walking slowly to the kitchen door.

“Don’t talk to me that way!” you exclaim following him. You watch him sit gingerly into one of the plush armchairs. “Do you need me to take you to the hospital?” you ask after a moment.

“No,” he responds petulantly, rubbing his rib cage and wincing. “Fuck I’m gonna have to cancel my next show.”

“Really?” you ask, biting your bottom lip and he sighs.

“Well considering I can barely fucking walk…” he trails and lets his head fall back, closing his eyes.

You walk over to him and kneel in front of him, taking his swollen hands in yours. He flinches as you press your lips to his knuckles but doesn’t open his eyes. “Where does it hurt?” you ask throatily and his eyes snap open, bringing his head up slowly to look at you.

“A lot of places,” he replies and you can practically see his eyes darkening, pupils dilating.

“Any place specific?” you ask, resting your hands on his cloth covered thighs.

“Yeah,” he replies and brings his hand down, cupping the growing bulge in his trousers. You gasp a little as you watch him squeeze and raise an eyebrow at you. “Kiss it make it better?” he questions, giving you a cocky smirk.

You give him a sexy smile as you reach for the button on his trousers. He places his hands on the arms of the couch and watches as your hand replaces his, pressing your palm against his growing arousal and rubbing him through his pants. Reaching for his hips you tug on the fabric and he lifts himself, wincing slightly as he allows you to pull his pants down his legs. You pull them from his feet, laying them aside before bringing your hands up to cup him through his boxers. His head falls back when you bring your mouth down on him, tonguing him through the fabric, your fingers massaging his balls.

He moans, his hands going to your shoulders, pressing lightly, wanting. You slide him out, hot and heavy in your hand, holding him tight by the base. He hisses when you squeeze and brings his head forward to watch as you dart your tongue out and lap up the beads of precum collecting around the head. You tongue his slit and he moans deep, keeping your hand on the base of his cock, teasing him with small licks to the head.

“Put it in your mouth,” he whispers, his nails digging into the arms of the chair and you shake your head at him.

You flick your tongue against the tip again, feeling him shudder as you lift him, your tongue darting against the little bump just under the head on the underside of his shaft. His cock twitches in your hand and he hisses when you do it again and again.

“Suck it babe,” he groans, and then, as if he can’t resist, “Please.”

You oblige, sliding your mouth down his shaft and he lets out a low growl when he hits the back of your throat. His fingers gather your hair, pulling it away from your face. You glance up to find him watching you, his head tilted to one side, his mouth open slightly. You come back up again, sucking sweetly on the head, your eyes never leaving his as you slide back down. His eyes widen then slide shut, his head falling back as you begin to suck lazily, sliding your tongue all around him, feeling the tip pulsing against the back of your throat.

His nails scrape against your scalp and you know he’s close. One more hard suck and he’s pulling your hair forcefully, removing your mouth from him. You lick your lips as he grabs your by your bra straps and pulls you on top of him. You straddle his hips, looking down at him, smirking as you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra. His eyes never leave your chest as you pull the cloth away and toss it into the recesses of the room. His hands slide around your back as his mouth drags down the valley between your breasts, his lips moving to close around one of your nipples. You fist your fingers in the hair at the back of his neck and rock slowly against him. You’re sure he can feel your wetness through your panties. He bites you gently and you moan, rocking harder against him.

His hands grasp your hips, thumbs sliding in the waistband of your panties. You gasp when he tugs hard, the sound of ripping fabric echoing into the room. He tosses the shredded material aside. He settles back and looks up at you.

“Ride me,” he commands, and you feel a wave of heat spread through your body at the gruffness in his voice.

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth as you sink down onto him slowly, feeling every inch as it slides in. He pants, his chin pressing against his chest, trying to see himself sliding into your body. You lean back a little as you slide up, watching his face as you sink down again. His hands go to your hips, urging you to go faster. You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your chest into his face, giving yourself better leverage so you can quicken your pace.

His mouth is on your breasts, your neck, your shoulders. Soft kisses mixed with bites and soothing licks. Your pussy is on fire as you slam down hard onto him, the friction causing tension to build in your stomach and your toes to tingle.

He’s grunting into your hair, his hips rising to meet you with every thrust. You’re sure that he’s in pain but he’s not even flinching, his face contorted in a way that tells you he’s trying not to pop.

“Baby,” he pants, fingers digging painfully into your hips. “Please.”

You drop down hard, rolling your hips, grinding your clit against his hipbone. The tension in your belly explodes then, racing out to your extremities as you call out his name. His head falls back as he spills into you, your pussy milking him of his orgasm.

You fall forward against him, panting. You can feel his breath against your collarbone, just as rapid as your own. You lean back to look at him and he grins. His left eye is almost swollen shut and his bottom lip busted and is bleeding again.

“Thanks for defending my honor,” you say and he smiles, wincing as it pulls the cut in his lip.

“Any time baby. Any time.”