Professional Peefer

mafiabosstsuna:

 Xanxus was feeling rather annoyed after Tsuna left. And still rather frisky. You arrived in his office five minutes later still straightening out that pencil skirt of your’s.

“What the hell took you so long, ___?” he growled, opening a bottle of whiskey and take a large drink of it. You frowned at him, a bit annoyed with that display he gave the whole office. Not to mention embarrass you in front of the current Vongola Don.

“I was actually getting water, Xanxus, when Tsuna approached me.” you chided, reaching back and locking his office door.

“Well, get over here then.” he frowned when you didn’t immediately come to his side or sit on his desk.

“..We’ve gotta talk about this, Xanxus.” He groaned as you said this, and you looked down, annoyed and hurt that all he wanted was sex and not to explain his actions.

“Talk! Talk, talk, talk! All it is, is cheap fucking words and you know that! Fine! You wanna talk so bad, let’s talk! What the fuck do you wanna talk about?!”

“Well, what the hell was that out there with Don Vongola?!” you shot back, annoyed and his eyebrows raised.

“He was hitting on my woman! What the fuck did you expect me to do?! Sit back and let him?!”

“No, you let me handle it! I told you I don’t like younger guys, Xanxus!”

“Younger guy or not the way he going he was going to get into your pants one way or another, ___!” He growled, shocking you into silence and walking around his desk. His rough hands gripped your shoulders not to hurt but to put some sense back into you. “And the only one in your pants had better be me.”

“Of course you’re the only one I’m seeing!” you cried, incredulously.

“Good. Now take off that stupid skirt before I rip it off.” He growled, in an entire different tone, while pushing you against a wall and biting down your neck. His hands wandered down your shirt to unbutton every last thing he could and do his damnedest not to rip the flimsy fabric.

“Xanxu-ahh…” you moaned, chest rising to meet his hands while he worked his magic fingers on your breasts.

“I said to take off the fucking skirt..” he growled lowly, biting your earlobe as your hand fumbled with the zipper down the side.

 Thirty minutes later he had you bent over his desk, teetering on the brink of bliss while he played with you and teased you and said dirty things in your ears but wouldn’t let you take that last leap off. He could get used to you moaning and begging him to let you finish. And he could keep you here for hours.