Page 73 of Ship Wrecked

Additional Tags:Actor RPF – Freeform,Explicit Sexual Content,Dirty Talk,Porn with Feelings,Hurt/Comfort,When I Say I Didn’t Research How Press Junkets Work I Mean I Didn’t Care About How Press Junkets Work,Anyway Here’s Wonderwall

Stats: Words: 6560 Chapters: 3/3 Comments: 21 Kudos: 97 Bookmarks: 8

Summary:

After an interviewer hurts Maria’s feelings, years of suppressed lust boil over, and Peter has one last question for the woman he loves.

Notes:

Just to emphasize: This work is RPF. If you don’t know what that is, detour to Google before reading.

I didn’t research how press junkets work. I did, however, do an image search for fancy hotel rooms to take an inventory of all available flat surfaces located therein. Priorities!

***

“He had no right to ask me that,” Maria sniffles. “Thank you for breaking his nose for me.”

He would do anything for her. Anything at all. Punching an asshole journalist is the least of it. Sure, there might be some legal hassle, but he’s a star. He has people to take care of that.

He pulls her tighter and tells her, “It was my pleasure.”

She goes very still against him.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about your pleasure, Peter,” she whispers. “A lot. For years now.”

This is it. The moment is here at last.

“Then I guess I have one final question for you, Maria,” he says.

Her eyes are wide and wondering as she looks up at him.

“Where do you want me to fuck you first?” he growls.

“Anywhere,” she breathes. “Everywhere.”

They’re close to the closet, and he desperately searches for the nearest flat surface as he rips off his clothes. Buttons fly everywhere, but he doesn’t care. He can buy a million new shirts if he wants. Her dress comes off over her head, and there she is. Naked.

“You’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he groans.

“You’re so strong and hard,” she murmurs. “Please fuck me, Peter. I need you.”

He can’t wait any longer. He won’t wait any longer.

He pulls down the ironing board from inside the closet, and it’s good enough.

“Turn around and bend over,” he demands, and she obeys.

“Will the ironing board hold us?” she whimpers as he positions his cock.

He snarls, “I’ll make it hold us. Besides, I’m supporting most of your weight with my dick.”

Then he’s inside her at last, and practicalities don’t matter anymore. Nothing does, other than fucking Maria and locating the next flat surface to drill her into for round two.

That Chippendale-style end table should work.

16

“Technically, I suppose all fish bought here are Swedish Fish,” Peter said to Maria as he pushed the grocery cart past the glass-fronted display of seafood. “Just like all massages are, by definition, Swedish massages.”

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