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Chapter Text

1.) Nipple Play --- [Harry/Honey]

2.) Licking --- [Crate/Barrel]

3.) Double Penetration --- [Bosch/Julia]

4.) Rimming --- [Veronica/Carl]

5.) Blow Job --- [Robertson/Pierce]

6.) Hate Fucking --- [Harry/Honey]

7.) Pantyhose --- [Harry/Honey]

8.) Rape/Non-Con --- [Bosch/Dobbs]

9.) Mirror Sex --- [Harry/Honey]

10.) Biting --- [Harry/Waits]

11.) Wax Play

12.) Lap Dances --- [Harry/Luke]

13.) Anal Sex

14.) Mutual Masturbation

15.) Spanking --- [Harry/Honey]

16.) Hair Pulling

17.) Creampie

18.) Fuck or Die

19.) Honeymoon

20.) Choking --- [Harry/Honey]

21.) Uniforms

22.) Sex in Public

23.) Blackmail

24.) Frotting

25.) Tender

26.) Pregnancy

27.) 69

28.) Bad Guy Made Them Do It

29.) Shower Sex

30.) Cunnilingus

31.) Kidnapping

Chapter Text

"Harry." There was a soft sigh that accompanied that needy tone.

Harry knew what she was urging for as she laid on the top of the hotel sheets, splayed before him. He knew what she wanted, as he licked at his lips in thought, but like always; he would deny her. Making her wait for his dick was his own perverse sense of payback and the payout was worth it-for both of them. Her naked torso shivered under his intense leer, and Harry grinned to himself when he spotted the way her skin prickled into bumps between the valley of her breasts. The palms of his hands were warm against her pale, and cool skin.

She jerked at the sudden change in temperature, only to bite onto her bottom lip in pleasure afterwards. His touch was gentle, designed to send another chill down her spine, which it did, but the coarseness of his fingers found their way over to the peaks of her nipples. The pads of his thumbs circled around her areolas and a moan caught in her throat. They were constant circles, going around in the same direction. The rhythmic gesture was increasing the build-up of her arousal. 

If Harry didn't know she was getting all hot and bothered from his actions from the way she squirmed on the bed. One look to her chest was all it took. Her tits stood erect, and Bosch grinned devilishly. He leaned over her body, letting some of his white chest hair rub against her naval, everything he did was slow and methodical. She was doing her best not to shake, although her hands did shoot up and land onto the back of his head. Her nails, blunt as they were, scrubbed at his scalp, but his hair was too short and too thin for her to grab or gain any purchase with.

He could feel her urgency in her frantic hand gestures, but he didn't let her dictate the pace. His descent was as smooth and calculated as the rest of his movements had been. And when his mouth was finally over top her right breast, her breath had caught in her throat.

"Bosch." She warned out, her words pausing as she caught her breath. Pushing past the electric feel of his mouth over her breast, and his hot, wet tongue lashing around her tit, Honey tried to move things along. "If you don't hurry and get this over with, I'm going to miss my two o'clock meeting."

"You say that like it matters." He shrugged his shoulders, his tongue coiling around her hardened bud.

She was going to be late or miss it altogether, and they both knew it. She never called him for a quickie. Lavishing her nipple for a little while longer, he left it drenched in saliva, before he released it from his suction with a soft pop. Then he proceeded to her other breast, determined to pay that nipple with the same attention. Honey's eyes closed in bliss, enjoying the extra foreplay, despite her initial objections and urgings for him to pick up the speed. Bosch did have a way with his mouth and those lips were wrapped around her breast, soaking that erect nipple with just as much as his warm spit.

Her thighs were beginning to spasm under his ministrations, and she felt the moistness on the top inside of her thighs-moist with her own pre-ejaculate. She was wet, yet two fingers pressing on either side of her abandoned nipple had distracted her from the stickiness of her cream dripping from her pussy. Bosch could always light her fire, only this way was far more satisfying. And he seemed to know that he'd filled her fire, making her burn from the inside out, because he had backed off just before a meaty moan bubbled out of her.

He pursed his lips, staring at her naked top through half-lidded eyes, hiding much of his desire. Blowing out cold air, and hitting her peaks, he'd made her shiver. She covered her mouth with her hand, muffling the whine of desperation, and she moved her other hand down towards her privates to take matters into her own hands. Predictably, Bosch caught her hand, as he roughly placed it down onto the bedsheets, ensnaring her wrist and keeping that hand locked in place. Her chest heaved up in lust, near the point where she couldn't stomach the wait any longer.

"You and I both know why you called me here. You might as well cancel your meeting." He rumbled out.

"I-I already did." She swallowed, craning her head backwards on the hotel pillow. 

Bosch covered her nipple with his mouth once more, and that moan she'd been suppressing had finally burst out when his teeth dragged over the tip of her nipple. There was no pain, but just the threat of a bite had her arching her back and leaning further into Harry. While she was thoroughly preoccupied, Harry slid his index finger quickly down her pubic bone, between her wet folds and pressed into her opening to his middle knuckle. She keened out, her eyes open but dazed. 

Harry pulled his finger out, then pushed back in, still building her up. However, she was straddling the precipice and would come, slow, steady, drawn out and ruined if he didn't break his stride soon. She was gasping out his name in between her breathy moans. There were a few idle threats thrown in, but Bosch was as solid as a rock and would not be swayed by anything she did. He'd stick to his way of doing things and at his pace. His tongue dipped to the center of her nipple, and his finger continued its pumping.

A few moments later, Honey was gripping the sheet with her trapped hand and her other raked through his white and silver hair. She was gyrating her hips, forcing the action to be faster than Harry was giving her, and she finally tumbled over the edge. Her inner walls clamping down on the breaching finger, and she rode it out. Breathing in quick succession, her death grip only loosening once her aftershocks wore off and she came off her high. It wasn't nearly as satisfying as his dick would have been, and she made her disappointment known.

"Not exactly what I was looking or hoping for in this get together, Harry."

He was still lazily mouthing around her boob, when he tilted his head up, her nipple falling from his mouth. His eyes were sinful as he gruffly spoke. "Who said we were finished?"

Chapter Text

"You know." Crate hissed out, as soon as he entered his house. Barrel was meandering out in front of him. He held one of his bags and he swore he could still hear the man muttering under his breath. "I was shot in the gut, not the ear. If you have something to say to me then you can say it to my face."

Barrel had spun around, staring at him, the slight anger replacing the real fear he had over losing his partner and all the what if scenarios he had played out in his head listening to Crate's irregular heartbeat back in his room. "Alright. I called you a stubborn jackass." Crate stopped just inside his front hallway, with his eyes wide. He'd just been shot. He figured he'd get some concern out of his partner before the jabs and shit talking. He was so stunned, that Barrel was able to grab his other bag out from his loose grip. It was a bag of some of his personal belongings and soiled clothes he'd packed from the hospital stay. "You were shot and insisted on carrying a bag."

"I'm okay." Crate replied quietly.

Barrel snorted, "I've had to listen to you wince and groan all the way from the hospital. Okay is not the word I would use, Rob."

The use of his first name served to ground him and got across to him just how serious Barrel was. Waiting until after Barrel placed both bags on the floor beside his couch, which also gave him the opportunity to shut and lock his door, he gradually approached his partner. "Listen, you old codger. I'm alive."

"Stop patronizing me, Crate. I know that."

"Look, look." Crate urged and when Barrel finally faced him, Crate let out a breath and lifted up his shirt. Barrel zeroed in on the marring of Crate's pale skin, just to the left of his navel. "It'll scar, Barrel. But they patched me up, good as new."

Barrel had seen the damage plenty of times in the hospital when the nurses would come in and check on his recovery after the surgery. However, seeing it in the intimacy of Crate's home and with the stitches now gone-had felt different. The coloring was darker compared to Crate's normal skin tone and it would turn into a nasty scar-it already was. Lightly, Barrel grasped at the side of Crate's hip, the one furthest from his wound. His thumb rubbed at the bone there, and then he locked eyes with the younger male. When Crate didn't shake his head or make any resistant moves, Barrel bent down.

He started at the hip that he was still holding onto. Brushing his lips against the juncture there. Yet, Crate didn't refuse or push him away; he continued. Parting his lips, he stuck his tongue out. The tip of it traveled across the expanse of skin, a centimeter above the hem of his slacks. He kept going until he reached his fine caramel-colored hairs that disappeared under his pants. Barrel retracted his tongue, just long enough to moisten it. He stayed away from Crate's injury, if his rigid stomach muscles were anything to go by.

However, he traced his belly button, leaving a wet trail in his wake. Crate's breathing was strained, and he reached for the wall to help steady himself. When that wet muscle swirled inside his belly button, he let out a soft whimper. He wasn't yet ready to feel that tongue scrap up along the coarse skin left behind from the gunshot and Barrel had read his mind. But he understood what Barrel meant by his actions. When that deft tongue began to make its way up to his sternum, he couldn't suppress his sigh. "E-Edward."

With a grace one wouldn't expect from Barrel, he rose back up and was cupping Crate's cheek. "Almost lost you, Rob."

"But you didn't."

Barrel gave Crate's jaded attitude a disappointed gaze, before he leaned back in. His face was next to Crate's, his lips at his ear and a tiny blush may have come to his cheeks when the shell of his ear was licked from the lobe to the top. "Come on, Crate." There was a tightening in Crate's pants as arousal started to tingle between his thighs. "I'll take care of you." A gentle touch, Barrel's index finger, caressing at his rising erection caused Crate to jerk up unexpectantly and Barrel whispered. "This, too."

Chapter Text

Relaxing back, Bosch folded his arms behind his head. He had hit his orgasmic high and he was breathing through his nostrils, the last bit of satisfaction rolling through him. His heart was still racing and while he would never admit he liked the cuddles after sex; he'd been caught off guard when Julia climbed out of bed almost as soon as they were finished. He assumed she had an early morning or needed to finish a report or something before turning in for the night and resigned himself to watching her dress and depart.

It wasn't a bad show, however, Bosch thought to himself as he watched the redhead bend over, as she unzipped her bag. It was located on the floor, and sow her pert, tiny ass was high in the air. She seemed to know his eyes were glued to her backside, because she teased him with a slight sway to her hips. Her ass moving from side to side. Bosch grinned to himself, feeling her wetness cooling around his half-hard shaft. He'd just had a taste of that pale ass and wet cunt, but he was tempted to stand up, walk over to her and smack both cheeks as they brazenly moved back and forth. 

He could almost picture Julia biting at her bottom lip before grinning proudly to herself for getting yet another rise out of him. Julia gradually stood back up, making sure to keep her rear end jutting out for as long as possible. When she turned back around, Bosch's eyebrow had gone up in bewilderment. In her hand was a rather long, slim pink dildo. Her fingers were wrapped around its shaft and the bulbous tip was shaped like the head of a penis. Upon closer inspection, it even had three ridges just below its tip. However, it was a bit smaller then the average dick, and it was smoother than a natural one.

She was smirking from ear to ear, the grin of the devil herself. The grin she got anytime she wanted to have sex or wanted to do something in bed beyond the normal foreplay and intercourse, and knew she was going to get what she wanted. She was firmly grasping at it and when she brought it up to her mouth, her tongue had come out to play. She swirled it around the top part of it, and her saliva caught on the lighting in his bedroom. She was tonguing it as though she were trying to seduce him. As if he needed to be, or needed any more convincing-he didn't.

And call him old fashioned, but it didn't seem like she was seducing him the way she hoped she was. To him, she looked like she was servicing another man in front of him and was expecting him to get all hot and bothered by it. Not to say it was a total turn off for him. He still had his half hard on and watched her raptly. Though his first gut reaction, and the one he was more than likely to do if this continued any longer, was to grab that dildo and throw it out the window. He just didn't understand why she needed that, when she had him...right there.

Julia was enjoying his attention on her, Bosch could tell. And with her gorgeous green eyes staring right back at him, she had pushed the toy farther into her mouth, practically gagging on it. Again, his dick was right there for all her gagging pleasure, he ruefully thought. She brought it back out, her lips still suctioned to the tip, and then went down on it again. She was caught in this repetitive dance, her eyes glazing over as she concentrated on what she was doing, rather then on the way Bosch's facial features grew harder.

"What are you doing?" Bosch finally brought himself to ask.

The way she was sucking on that dildo had faltered, until she was removing it from her mouth with a soft satisfying pop. A dumbfounded expression fell across her face. "Damn Harry. You don't have to prove all that caveman, you're as old as a fossil bullshit true. I'm using a dildo."

"Jesus Julia." Bosch rolled his eyes, refraining from sighing out in frustration. "Sure, I'm old, but I'm not some sheltered moron. I know what a dildo is. What are you doing with it, when I'm laying right fucking here?" He was still able; with the right coaxing. And those glistening, hungry lips going down his shaft would have done the trick.

A slight pout formed at her lips, but there was a hopefulness to her eyes. "I thought we could have some more fun." She went back to licking the underside of the dildo, from base to tip, as she breathily spoke. "I wasn't ready for our evening to be over."

She clenched her thighs together, getting more wet as she performed in front of Harry. Her lips had parted again, getting the toy as wet as she could with her spit alone. Bosch still wanted to toss the silly thing aside and drag her down between his legs and fuck her throat raw, but he watched the way she squirmed while she was coating it with slick. The way her other hand went down to cup at her crotch. She was getting some sort of pleasure doing this, and perhaps it was more titillating with eyes watching her, instead of sequestered away in her room, getting herself off. And since she was enjoying herself, he tolerated it.

Once she had sufficiently moistened the dildo, she had braced herself on his dresser, spread her legs open, and then he watched as the tip of it moved to the entrance of her pussy. She barely pushed the tip of it into her folds, before her sloppy wet cunt was greedily pulling it inside. He watched, in faint jealousy, wanting his own thick cock to be swallowed up in her inviting warmth. That should be his dick, and he only tolerated watching her fuck herself on the pink dildo for a few more minutes. But at the first moan she made, that didn't come from him, he was off that bed and in front of her before she had time to blink.

"Ha-Harry?" She had stilled, her hand still keeping the dildo in place, but she'd seen a fire in his eyes that froze her to her core.

He grabbed her hand off the dildo, replacing his own hand there. Surprisingly, he didn't remove it from her entrance like she had anticipated, and instead, she felt his own cock head, now hardened again, at her entrance. She swallowed audibly, struggling to tell him to back off, when the tip of his own cock pushed between the toy still inside and her own wet wall. He groaned out, as he continued to push himself inside her, the hardness of the toy making it a closer fit, but her inner walls stretched out and he was soon bottoming out. He kept the toy snuggly fit inside, as his own dick pulsed.

"Uhn, so...So tight, Julia." Bosch moaned, his face naturally going to the curve of her neck.

She trembled. "Fuck...Fuck Harry. It's too...too much. I can't. Not both."

"Oh fuck. You wanted this Julia." He wiggled the dildo, the pressure against his cock catching the breath in his throat and he started a slow, languid thrust. Slowly out, and then slowly back in. He was mindful of her doubts, and wasn't about to hurt her. But judging by the cry of desire that came out of her mouth, he had judged the scene correctly. Maybe she hadn't expected him to fill her up with another dick, but she had been hopeful that he'd toss her on the bed and give her another hard fuck. "Shit, you're so tight like this."

She nodded her head in silent agreement and was able to move out of her stunned lock, to wrap her arms around to his back, and grip so tightly, that she was leaving crescent moon markings in his flesh from her nails. "Harry, Harry." She felt so fucking full, and she didn't know how much more she could take. When she felt her sex clench down around him, she knew that she couldn't and wouldn't last with two dicks stretching her out and fucking her deep. Harry was even moving the dildo in tandem with his own actions. And it was sweet, heavenly, bliss.

Her orgasm was crashing into her, as she squealed out in delight. Her muscles crushed down around the two protruding rods, leaving her breathless and momentarily weak. Bosch had taken on all of her weight, his actions still as smooth as butter, while Julia had momentarily lost her train of thought and all her senses too. She had turned into a doll, into putty in his arms, and he guided them away from the dresser, and back towards his bed. She hadn't even felt it when they crashed back down atop the covers, with her underneath him. Her pussy was still coming down in waves around the dildo and Bosch's heated organ, pulling and keeping them deep within her.

"Ah. Ah fuck, Harry. That-That was..." It was as though she couldn't think of the right word, or her brain wasn't firing on all cylinders yet. But she did come up with the word, "Intense."

Another beat went by, when she noticed that Bosch hadn't slowed down. She let out a long low moan when in fact Harry picked up his speed. "Oh my god." She was blinded as more stimulation caused her body to tremble. "Haarrrry."

"Mm?" He licked at his lips, replying slyly. "What? I thought you wanted some more fun?" He slowly twisted the dildo inside her and against his own length when he'd gone back on an inward thrust. "I thought you didn't want the night to end."

Chapter Text

Laying before her, on his stomach, was the nude form of the security guard that kept a watch over her gated community. Carl Nash. He was on the heftier side, which was nothing new to her. Her husband had the same type of doughy physique. Though to Carl's credit, there were some muscles that shaped his back, his thighs and his round buttocks that Tony didn't have and would never have. Veronica could discern the past cop in the body she was laying with-he was a definite step up from her cheating slob of a husband.

Carl may not have been conventionally attractive, but there was also nothing inherently ugly about his outward appearance either. In the end, it didn't matter. All she needed out of him was his assent that he'd kill her husband. Once he did that, she'd discard of him easily and be able to start her life anew; filthy rich. As her hands traced down his broad shoulders, meeting in the middle of his back, she grinned down at him. He saw her from behind his shoulder and his eyes, filled with lust as they were, were still as sharp and piercing as ever.

He was laying sideways on his arms, incredibly comfortable in his nudity, while she reverently trailed down his spine. Her lips joined in the exploration of his body for the first time. She was the type of woman who would do anything to get her way, and she wasn't leaving this bedroom until he agreed to take care of her husband. His breath hitched when those luscious, full lips over hers brushed down to his lower back. Slightly ticklish, but mostly it felt erotic to him, and he relaxed his face into her pillow to enjoy himself.

"Why? Oh." Carl sharply exhaled, when her lips slipped further down, pressing firmly to the side of one of his ass cheeks. "Why come to me? Aren't you afraid I'll report you or tell Tony you want him dead?"

She paused in her journey to the crack of his ass, to smirk. Her lips were still touching flesh, so he had to be able to feel her amusement, since he could no longer see her face or her flowing blonde hair from his vantage point. She was just too far down his body. Too close to his ass. He'd have to bend at a weird angle in order to see her, and he just couldn't do that anymore at his age, and with his extra body weight. Besides, he was enjoying the thought of Veronica's face against his ass, that his own fantasy of it was probably better than the reality. 

"Not afraid at all." She'd just deny his claims to authorities-he had no evidence-he wasn't recording them in bed. 

And they both knew she'd lie and accuse Carl of assaulting her if he said anything to Tony, for her own survival of course. Tony may have fallen for that tart, Lilah, but he was still possessive enough over her to punish Carl for touching what was his. At least, she thought he would, but it was a risk she was willing to take, and a risk Carl was not. Peeling her upper lip back, in that same smirk, she dragged her teeth down his sensitive flesh. He remained tight-lipped, not uttering a sound, but he couldn't stop the chill traveling up his spine and leaving him in a quiet shiver.

The tip of her tongue slipped back through her parted lips, and she made a small trail of moistness as she curved just to the left of his crack. With her eyes wide open, she watched as his back tensed up. Dipping between his two cheeks, her tongue smoothed out across his puckered hole. He was more tense, straining his body against sensations that were new and foreign to him. But as she continued to lash around his puckered hole, his body surrendered to her. As soon as he was relaxed enough, she wriggled her tongue until his rosebud broke open and she was able to push inside.

That time, Carl did moan out loud, and Veronica inwardly grinned before refocusing on what she was doing. Her tongue moved against his inner walls, drawing another keen of breath and a strained moan out of him. She was certain he would do anything for her now, as long as he could keep coming back for one more taste. Veronica could probably pull away now, but she was having too much fun-not that she'd ever admit that. Her hands had pried his cheeks apart so that she could get further into his passage. She had wanted to hear him whimper, and after a few more moments she had gotten her wish.

Pulling away, she needed to rewet her tongue. She also commented with a hint of flirtation to her tone. "I asked you, because I heard you had a dangerous reputation."

The smile was in her cadence, but she was right back to dragging her tongue around the rim of his ass hole, before he had a chance to reply. He had whimpered out, his fingers curling tighter around the pillow he lay atop. Carl's mouth had dropped open and he was breathing heavily, trying to suppress any more moans, groans or whimpers from escaping him. She was doing this swirl with her tongue that Carl couldn't even being to describe, all he knew was that it felt amazing. Veronica teased him a little longer, until his cock was heavy and leaking on her sheets.

"So." Veronica purred out, giving one more smack of her lips to the bottom of his rear end, and then she moved back up his backside. Once she was laying on top, her arms had curled around his shoulders, and she laid another kiss at the nape of his neck and then again at the tip of his ear. "Do you think you could do this favor for me? Will you take care of my husband?"

"If the money-"

"The money is there." Veronica assured. "Trust me."

He turned slightly, and with no hesitation, had drew her into him. His lips grazed hers, and when she opened up for a deeper kiss, his tongue had slipped into her mouth. He mapped out her interior, gliding his wet muscle on top of hers and tasting himself there. The back of his hand was caressing at her cheek, keeping her on his mouth. His knuckles on her cheek bone, absolutely mesmerized by her beauty. They lingered in each other's spaces for quite a while, before they both had to come up for air.

"Then I have millions of reasons to want your husband dead."

They exchanged looks, wicked smiles reflecting off of each other, before Veronica chastely kissed at his flat lips. And then in her most seductive voice she prompted. "Where were we?"

Chapter Text

"Ah. There. Right there. Just like that, youngblood." The husky voice of his older partner, of Robertson, hit his ears. 

He was paying close attention to all of Santiago's audible commands, since he still didn't understand all of the silent or physical cues his partner may have been giving him. It was also surprisingly difficult for Pierce to concentrate on anything else other than the task at hand. The hard dick was filling his mouth and twice he had to remind himself to keep his teeth from biting down. Pierce didn't hate the feel of the rock-hard member laying heavily on top of his tongue. But there was too much going on and too much pressure for him to ever get off by doing this.

As it was, he was only half hard, leaning over the center console to go down on his partner. And he was fairly certain that the only reason he had any stiffness to his manhood was because he was feeling arousal hearing Santiago's. Another moan, soft and quiet, but full of desire all the same came from the older male. It gave Pierce a shudder and he knew he needed and wanted to make Santiago feel even more pleasure. His own dick did quiver in answering pleasure, but it still wasn't enough to give him a full erection.

He was just too worried that one of his back molars might pinch at Santiago's skin and give him unnecessary pain, or that he'd end up doing this wrong and disappoint him. He backed off of his shaft, keeping his lips firmly around his tip, to give himself a mental pat on the back for resisting the urge to bite down or expel the cock from his orifice. He remembered how far down he had gone when Robertson had praised him. Once he'd gotten more air in his lungs and had composed himself, he went back down his shaft-stopping in the perfect place. He had enough suction around his member and there was saliva sticking between his length and his tongue.

Robertson was shaking his head silently above him, something Pierce couldn't hear, but the older male had enough wits about him to breathe out, "Yeeeesssss."

This type of direction, praise, and encouragement was what Pierce needed to grow curious and try something new. He tried to wiggle his tongue out from being trapped underneath and he managed to curl it around the head of Robertson's cock. The tip of it swirled across his slit and apparently Pierce had hit a sensitive spot for his partner. One of Robertson's hands had come down to the back of his shaved head. There was nothing demanding about the action, and Pierce felt comfortable enough that if he wanted to stop or pull away, Santiago would let him.

With the weight of his hand curved around the back of his head, Pierce almost thought he'd have to work twice as hard to lick his way back up and then bob back down his dick. However, that hand moved like liquid as he did and he started to gain a rhythm. He wasn't as steady as he'd hoped he'd be. His only actual experience and exposure to this was watching women going down on men in porn videos, and the directions Santiago had given him at the start of this endeavor. He knew he was a little bit more bumpy and awkward than the professionals in those flicks, and when he didn't get any more meaty moans from the man, Pierce had backed off once more.

He went back to that spot that he did know about, that had Robertson lose his carefully in controlled posture. And when his wide tongue started swiping at his spongey head, dipping into the small hole in the middle, he felt Robertson's fingers spread out against his head, while the rest of his body seemed to tremble. Pierce keyed in on that, dipping and licking at the sensitivity it caused his partner, just grateful that he was doing something right. He brought his hand around, gripping at the base of Santiago's length.

All the saliva that had built up, had cascaded down, and he was able to gather it in his fist, while stroking the hardened flesh. He was getting him completely wet, stimulating his sex, while he kept prodding at the tip of his penis. He could feel a twitch under his hand, Robertson's thighs were twitching, and there was a low ragged moan rumbling from within the man's chest that Pierce could feel as well as hear. He also felt the way Robertson's fingers tensed at the back of his head, and before he could analyze or interpret the meaning, Robertson was pushing at his chin.

His jaw was throbbing just from the seven or so minutes he'd been trying to swallow that dick, so he felt some alleviation when he pulled completely off and sat back up. Robertson's hand had moved to join with his, and together they were getting him off. It was all over his face. Pierce may not have been picking up the silent cue beforehand, but the way his partners eyes were closed, and his mouth hung open, the way his hand jerked faster at his large black hand rubbing at his length. All of it were tells Santiago was having just before completion.

And then with a modest groan, yet louder than all of his previous noises, Santiago used his free hand to cup at the tip of his dick. He was coming, catching most of his ejaculate in his hand, but some of the white fluid did dribble down his shaft, and get between both of their fingers. It was sticky semen, just like his, and felt pretty much the same as when he'd masturbate himself. Robertson was still huffing, and while he was recovering, Pierce decided to gaze out the windshield. It was dark outside, and there was no movement around, they were safe.

"Not bad, youngblood." Robertson spoke, his tone not quite back to normal yet. He shifted, letting go of himself and the vice grip he'd had on Pierce. Then with that same slick-covered hand, he had reached around, grabbing right between Rondell's legs. There was a quick intake of breath, as Santiago felt the stiffness. And with a few more rough caresses through his slacks, that hardness began to grow. "Your turn."

Chapter Text

"Was there something else you needed?" Came Honey's insufferable question. 

He'd gotten all the relative information regarding Elias as he could. At least as so far as the investigation went. He was sure as more details came to light, the further he went in this investigation, he'd be back in Honey's office asking follow-up questions. He was done there, so why? Why did it feel like there was something missing? That sense of incompletion was nagging Harry. He was gazing around her office aimlessly, hoping something there would jump start his brain into whatever else was keep him there. 

Or at least come up with another question to justify why he was still pestering her far longer than necessary, when they both had jobs to get back to. Only nothing was coming to mind, and he was wearing on her patience. The nails clacking on her desk in her rising frustration was enough to piss him off. The moment he snapped his eyes up at her, in that moment, he knew exactly the reason for the continued tension. He knew what kept his feet from moving out her door. Her.

"Yeah." He managed to get out, a little too rough with emotion.

She straightened a little further in her seat, feeling challenged when he came back around to her desk, and she wasn't about to back away from a challenge; certainly not when the detective was involved. She sighed out at his incredulous silence, the intensity behind those unreadable bright eyes did not excite her. She'd never admit out loud, anyway. But she did prod him. "I've already answered all of your questions about Howard. What else could you possibly-"

She was caught off-guard when rough calloused hands pulled her up by fistfuls of her blouse. Her hands flew up to push Harry away. Lips, shockingly soft and moist were on hers and it was enough to freeze her where she now stood. She was so stunned by the turn of events, that she was puckering her lips, tilting her head, and returning the kiss. Everything was going by in slow motion, time had come to a standstill, as the tension started to drain out of her, while she went on autopilot. The moment her hands landed on Harry's shoulders, time returned to normal, and it had broken whatever spell had come over her.

As forcibly as she could, she pushed his upper body away from her. He was much stronger and sturdier and could have easily been immune to her push. He must not have been expecting it, since he staggered back, bumping into her desk at his back. There was a fire in her eyes, and where words failed her, her body did not. A sharp open palmed slap landed on his cheek, and it was still stinging, still throbbing with pain when she regripped him by the front of shirt and brought him back to her.

This time when their lips touched, there was no hesitancy, and there were no knee-jerk robotic reactions. A passion, one entirely fueled by hatred and anger simmered between them, and they were kissing each other with fervor. She was grabbing at the front of his chest so hard; her nails were pinching at his skin underneath. Responding in kind, he cradled the back of her head in one hand, while the other held firmly to her hip; his grip rough enough to leave bruises. She only pinched tighter, and drove her tongue further into his mouth, prying his jaw further making it ache.

When she broke away, her hand was out, slapping at his face once more. After the second slap, he was quick to capture her wrist in his hold, his eyes darker, sending a tingle that Honey could interpret down her back. He spun them both around, backing her up into her own desk and taking her enclosed wrist, slamming on the desk behind her. Her back hit next and she was bent over her desk, her heels barely touching the floor now, with a dangerous looking Harry towering above her.

He was bowing overtop of her, his lips tantalizing across her ear, and he bucked against her groin. She felt his hard erection rub perfectly against her mound, and only then did she realize how aroused she was. She was arching into him, gasping out, and ground back. This grinding felt more like she was trying to get back at him, to make it burn, rather than for sexual gratification. This was just an extension of their usual game, and he was just as determined to stick it to her, as he ever was, but this was going to be far more enjoyable and satisfying.

Growling out, he dragged her skirt roughly up, barely enough to even squeeze his hips into, and pushed her underwear aside. There was a singular breath between them, as he freed his own cock and then rubbed his hot flesh along her sticky folds. Not wanting him to get the advantage over her but drawing this out and making her yearn for it, she wrapped one leg around his waist, bringing him into her, his tip going right to her entrance and then she took on his length in one fell swoop. She was sure to dig the bottom of her pointed heel into his ass cheek, too.

He cursed under his breath, the pain evident in his voice, compounded by the erotic feel of being buried in her warm canal. "Just couldn't wait to feel me inside, Money?"

"Shut up." She bit back. She didn't want to hear him talk at all during this. And to ensure he wouldn't, she brought him back down onto her lips, smashing them painfully together.

He picked up a punishing pace in their little tug of war, and they both were moving against one another. Back and forth, doing their own fucked up dance, reaching their highs, taking and accepting the pain they were giving each other, as if that were the only way they could accept the fact that they were well passed the line and being intimate with one another. Before long, Harry was feeling Honey's inner walls crashing down around his shaft, squeezing him, as though it were hoping to drain him of every last drop of semen.

He heard her soft whimpers being drowned out in the depths of their joined mouths, and if he didn't despise her so much, he may have found it hot as hell. Hell, he did find her muffled noises of completion all the more stimulating, but it was a secret he'd bury in the back of his mind and never acknowledge again. And with her orgasm, he could feel his building up in the base of his balls. There was an unbearable heat between his legs, and he pushed into her trembling, moist cunt, slamming into it harder and harder as he chased his own high.

Harry was getting closer, he was grunting out low, his breath moving against Honey's lips in the brief moments they lost connection, but Honey had the brain cells to keep his mouth working elsewhere instead of hearing him speak. And the moment his thrusts grew erratic, Honey bit down on his bottom lip. Harry yelled out at the pain, as well as during his impending orgasm. And he shuddered, filling her up as he came, her leg still firmly attached around his hip, making it difficult for him to pull away. And in the back of his mind, this was another fuck you to her.

His arms tensed up, and he backed off of her once the last bit dribbled from his slit. She let her leg slide off of his body, not willing to admit how boneless she felt after their tango. And instead, she replaced her buzz with righteous anger. "I was right on the bullseye with you detective Bosch. You're such a dick."

He was tucking his wet, not as hard erection back in his pants, wanting to get out of there as fast as possible. He was going to go straight home and shower before he went or did anything else. He scoffed. "A dick you had no problem coming all over a few minutes ago."

"I hate you." Honey proclaimed as she grabbed a folder, the papers had been scattered all over her desk from their rough coupling and proceeded to hit him with it.

"Good." Harry claimed, the air between them not as tense anymore. "And this. It's never happening again."

"At least we can agree on one thing. Now get out of my office."

Harry didn't need to be told twice, as he strode away from her. Though, even as he promised himself silently that this had been a one-time thing, a correlation of emotions that bubbled over. He wasn't too sure they wouldn't be right back in her office, or somewhere else next week, slapping each other around while they desperately rutted into each other's bodies, biting, scratching and kissing each other until they unraveled their tension into an explosion of yet another orgasm.

Chapter Text

"You've got to be kidding me." Harry had griped after he'd gotten her skirt off and tossed it to the floor beside the bed. "More layers?"

Honey had a flesh-colored sheen covering her legs and her black panties. He'd been working the both of them up and he'd thought he'd get to start delving underneath her underwear. Honey giggled from her place on the bed, biting at the tip of one of her fingers. The front of her blouse had been unbuttoned, and her breast had since slipped back under her top. But her nipples were still tingling from the stimulation of his rough hands and talented mouth. "You didn't think I'd make you work for it, Harry?"

He grumbled under his breath, even as the inside of his palms flattened and he ran them up the length of her nylons-stopping just short of her groin. If he had to work for it, then he was going to tease her. He was going to get so close to where she wanted to be touched, before pulling away. He was going to make her beg for it. It only seemed fair. And the hitch in her breath was a good sign. She was just as turned on, and wanting him just as badly, despite her bluster to the contrary.

Now it was just a game to see who would crack first. His hands were still near her crotch, lingering on the inside of her thighs. Applying pressure with his thumbs, he had moved them about in circles, inching closer and closer to her nether region, but never quite touching it. Just as she bit down on the tip of her finger again, her body tensing in anticipation for his touch against the top of her cunt. His hands had smoothed back down her nylons, all the way to her ankles, denying her-her need.

He moved his fingers about, massaging at the sides and back of her ankles, the coarse material scratching at the pads of his fingers. There was a small sigh of contentment that came from her, but Harry could tell she was disappointed by how quickly he had backed off. He kept his hands around her ankles for a few more moments, his eyes sneaking upwards to see how irate she was getting. She was still moderately annoyed; she'd take a little bit longer to crack. With slick movements, he began to knead at the backs of her legs, loosening her calf muscles.

As he continued up the back of her leg, her body started to ease, and she relaxed into the bed they both laid upon. She hummed in the back of her throat, enjoying the impromptu massage. However, when he reached her thighs again, he had caught on a particularly thick knot. Honey had jerked in his hands, the particular knot being more painful and his pressure did not supply her with the relief she needed. "Jesus, Honey. What have you been doing to get so wound up tight back here?"

Honey evened out her breathing, trying to relax herself so that Harry could go back to working it out. She breathed out through pursed lips. "You do have me running to your aid a lot recently."

"Blaming me, huh?"

She cracked a wide grin. "And it's your responsibility to fix it."

Harry gave her a silent intensity, made to give her the chills, and after the tremor, he went back to her leg. He licked at his lips, making her breath fall short, her eyes ever present on his actions. But she did lay her head back down on the pillow when his fingers, more gently, smoothed around the outer parts of her knot. He was a lot more gradual, as he made his way towards the center of the tension. And took even longer to break it up and ease her thigh muscle. She was grateful, and it felt great. 

Even felt stimulating, since Bosch didn't forget where they were or what they were originally doing. The edge of his hand dipping further into her thigh every so often to tease at her flesh. His head bent down, and his tongue slipped out, joining in the teasing. She could feel some of the dampness of it, but mostly just the pressure through her stockings. Content that Harry was going to finish what he started once her knot was gone, she snuggled herself against the pillow, her arms going up passed her head as she fully relaxed into the sensations.

He continued up her legs once more, lashing his tongue in the wake of his fingers, but once again just before he went to rub or mouth across her pelvic bone and into her groin, where she was craving it the most, Bosch had backed off. His hands slipped back down the inside of her thighs, stopping at her knees, and he moved his mouth, dragging his tongue along down the front of her thighs. Honey tensed, her arms coming back up, and she let out a sigh. "As much as I loved and appreciated the impromptu massage, Harry. Can you stop teasing me already?"

Harry hummed, letting himself feel the warmth of her body under his tongue, before he broke away to gaze back up into her face. "Say it."

"Excuse me?"

"You're going to make me work for it. Goes both ways, Honey."

Honey groaned. "Harry." The word was a hot breath, sizzling in her own sexual need, and she groaned softly, under his smolder. "Touch me, Harry. Get this pantyhose off of me and put your hands and mouth on my body."

"Finally!" Harry huffed, his hands slipping easily up under her skirt, hooking his fingers under the tops of her nylons and he pulled them down to her thighs. "Was that so hard to say?" He purred out, before he shuffled down, pulling the rest of her hose down and off her feet. Not a snag in them. "Any longer, and I think my tongue would have gone numb."

Brushing her fingers through his thick white and silver locks, she started to shove him towards her vagina. "Believe me, baby. Your tongue is going to go numb before we're through tonight."

Chapter Text

"Come on. Come on." Bosch said under his breath, his finger on the trigger.

It was pitch black on that island, Bosch knew he couldn't risk shining a flashlight. He just hoped Trevor was stupid enough to fall for the old school trick. Stupid enough to underestimate him, because of his old age. The other two were arrogant as hell, and Bosch had to assume their leader had that in spades. Enough to dismiss him; especially 'in the field'. He knew it was a calculated risk, and he probably should have waited for backup if things didn't go well. He was out there alone, and he couldn't even be certain if the guy that had sailed him out there listened to him and called for backup.

However, the risk of losing Dobbs and him getting away with murder and thousands in cash just wasn't worth it to him. Someone was going to pay for Sharkey; someone was going to pay for the murder of Billy Meadows. Bosch was going to make Trevor pay. His eyes roved the darkened land in front of him, and he concentrated, listening for any noises no matter how obscure to alert him if Dobbs was finally making his way down the mountainous terrain. Listening for the crack of a stick or the crunch of vegetation under his hiking boots. But there was nothing but the soft thrum of the insects and wildlife.

By the time he heard something from behind him, a voice and a gun had accompanied it. "Uh uh uh." Came the disappointing scold of Dobbs. "Drop your gun. Unless you want to die right here, right now."

Bosch slowly removed his finger off the trigger, sensing the gun on him, even if he couldn't physically feel it. He scoffed at Dobbs statement. "You're going to kill me anyway."

"Yeah. But I'd rather take you down the hard way. Shooting you is too easy. I told Woodrow not to underestimate you, told Xavi not to go after that partner of yours. I wasn't about to make their mistakes. That was a neat trick...a little old school for my tastes. Gotta tell you, though, you almost got me."

"Almost." Bosch's jaw tightened, knowing it was all over for him as soon as he dropped his gun. However, he couldn't see another way of getting out of this particular jam he'd found himself in. There seemed to be little choice in the matter, and with very stiff and reluctant movements, Harry outstretched his hand, making it clearly visible to Dobbs. Then with near robotic motion, he leaned to the side, lowering his weapon, until it was a few feet from the ground and then dropped it the rest of the way. Dobbs was too smart to look down or try and kick it away, which would have been his only opportunity.

This wasn't about to be a quick death, but even as he thought it, there was a hard knock to the back of his head and it knocked his lights out. The last thing he saw before everything went black was the dark ground approaching closer. He swam in darkness for an undetermined amount of time, only to slowly come back to reality, enough to feel like he was being split open and burning alive from the inside. The pain had caused him to jostle instinctively away from it, only to be snapped right back, a foreign pressure encircling his wrists.

He'd been restrained by his own handcuffs, his arms wrenched behind him. And as more of reality came into focus, despite keeping his eyes sealed shut away from it, Harry became aware of a sharp pulling sensation between his legs, at his anus and Harry's lips parted. He held back the sob threatening in his throat and he muted the panic threatening to overtake him. Son of a bitch! The burn he felt was the drag of Dobbs filthy cock pushing in and out of his dry passage. He could smell the faint odor of blood, and tears stained the corners of his eyes from pure anger. A groan of pain emanated from him as Dobbs continued to piston inside.

"Ah good. I was really-" A voice thick with arousal was gruffly touching his ear. "-hoping you'd be awake for this."

"You better..." His voice drifted off, as he struggled to keep himself from groaning out anymore, not willing to satisfy this sick fuck anymore. He was also catching his breath. "You better kill me."

He bit down hard on his bottom lip, as pain shook him. Dobbs seemed to sense this, as he smirked, a soft giggle closely behind Harry's head. "I will, oh, I will."