Good Morning
By Misha
Disclaimer- Not mine.
Author’s Notes- Happy Smutterday. This is just a short, random Drake and Amelia smut piece. It was inspired by a conversation with CallMeTippyTumbles about how I HC Drake and Amelia dress when they are in their little cottage on the estate grounds and then next thing I knew, this fic popped into my head.
Pairing- Drake/MC
Rating- NSFW
Summary- Amelia interrupts Drake making breakfast and things take a steamy turn.
Words- 921
“Something smells good,” I commented as I stepped into the kitchen.
Drake and I were taking a few days at the cottage he’d built for on the estate’s grounds, away from the pressures of our day to day lives and the expectations that went with being the Duke and Duchess of Valtoria, where we could just be Drake and Amelia.
Which meant, instead of servants, Drake was the one making breakfast.
“Bacon and eggs,” Drake told me as he put the food on a plate.
“Isn’t frying bacon without a shirt, a little hazardous?” I joked, wrapping my arms around him.
“What can I say, I’m a risk taker?” Drake joked with a grin, that turned into something else as his eyes roamed over me. “Besides, you’re one to talk about lack of clothing.”
He placed the plate down on the counter and then returned my embrace. His left hand rested on my ass, covered only by a thin piece of lace, while his right played with the hem of the old t-shirt I was wearing.
“I’m not the one cooking,” I reminded him a little breathlessly, pressing myself closer. “I can dress however I want.”
“Is that so?” Drake practically growled, maneuvering us across the small kitchen until he had me pressed against the wall. “You know, if you keep dressing like that, and I might want to decide I’d rather eat you instead of our breakfast.”
I groaned, wrapping my leg around one of his. “Is that a promise?”
Even as I said the words, I knew our food would grow cold before we got around to it. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Yeah, it is,” Drake told me, gently unhooking my leg, but keeping hold of it as he dropped to his knees, placing it on his shoulder, pulling me closer to him.
“These need to go,” he commented, yanking on my underwear and ripping them off, tossing the ruined fabric to the side. He placed a kiss on my thigh, making me moan and then his mouth moved up, taking his time, teasing me.
“Drake!” I whined, pressing myself against him.
He didn’t respond with words, but he gave me what I wanted, his tongue cutting a long swipe across my slit before delving deep causing me to moan louder, My hands digging into his hair. He kept one hand on my hip, holding me in place, while the other teased my clit as his mouth worked its magic.
“Oh, Drake!” I groaned, pressing my leg into him. “Ohh!!! Ohhh!”
The orgasm washed over me, shattering me into pieces.
Drake gave me a moment to come down and then gently lifted my leg off his shoulder, but instead of helping me to the ground, he just lowered it to his waist. I knew what that meant and I sighed in pleasure, eagerly pulling him towards me.
Our lips met in a passionate, frenzied kiss and I could taste myself on his tongue, which just made me even more aroused.
I tugged at his jeans, quickly undoing them and then yanking them down along with his underwear, freeing his hard cock. I took it in my hand, massaging it, loving the way Drake’s breath got more hurried and the expression on his face.
“I want you,” he told me, staring into my eyes.
“I’m yours,” I assured him, “now and forever.”
That was all the invitation he needed and the next moment he was inside of me, pinning me up against the wall, my legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust into me hard and fast. His mouth covered mine again and we kissed passionately, desperately, as our bodies moved together, the pace frenzied.
“Drake!” I screamed as he pushed me to the edge again, my hands digging into his back.
His response was a series of groans and I felt him stiffen before he spilled himself inside of me.
He held me close for a moment, his forehead resting against mine and then he helped me to my feet before fixing his jeans.
“Our food is getting cold,” he told me, but he was smiling.
I shrugged. “Totally worth it.” It was, as much as I loved having Drake make me breakfast, it couldn’t compare to these special, private moments and how he could bring me completely undone by his touch.
We spent so much of our lives in the public eye, surrounded by people, and it made these moments, here in our private space where we could do whatever we wanted, where it was just the two of us and no outside world, even more special.
Drake moved towards the counter and the food, but I stopped him with my hand. “But before I eat anything, I should go clean up. Maybe take a nice long shower. I feel like breakfast can wait.”
The food would get cold, but Sir. Wigglesworth would make sure it didn’t go to waste, I was sure.
Drake grinned. ‘Is that so? Do you need help washing your back?”
“Don’t I always?” I asked him, my hand moving from his arm to trail up his bare chest. “Are you offering?”
“Baby, I’m the only one who gets to wash your back,” he responded and to my surprise, he swept me off my feet and into his arms, carrying me with ease toward our bedroom and the connected bathroom.
Not that I was complaining, not at all.
Breakfast could definitely wait. This was the perfect way to start a morning.
- End
