Phelps Twins | one shots

The Breakfast Table

"Morning, love," Oliver's cheerful voice greets me as I enter the kitchen.

I throw him a tired smile, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I walk towards him. Standing on my toes, I peck his cheek lightly.

"Mm, morning. Breakfast smells amazing," I groan, turning my attention to the sausage he's currently tending to.

One thing I love about this man, is his ability to cook. He'd taken over the responsibility of cooking meals after I burned a frozen pizza and left the entire kitchen clouded with smoke.

"It's almost done if you want to go sit down." he says with a grin, kissing me quickly before nudging me in the direction of the breakfast table.

Sitting down, I stretch my arms above my head as he brings plates of food over.

"You look exhausted," Oliver points out once he's sitting down. He looks me over, running his tongue over his bottom lip as a smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. "I wonder why?"

My cheeks burn as flashes of last night cross my mind, and I touch the base of my neck where his hand had been just hours before.

I meet his gaze, seeing the glint of mischief behind them I love so much.

"Could be because I spent most the night with my ass in the air." I reply playfully, but I know my words get to him when his jaw clenches ever so slightly. Good. If I play my cards right, maybe he'll drag me back to bed after breakfast.

"You don't seem too troubled by that," he replies after a brief pause to compose himself.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he watches as I bring a sausage to my lips.take a bite, holding his gaze as I grin and chew.

"Not at all. I was actually thinking we could"-I pause to take another bite-"reenact the events from last night?"

I notice how he balls his hands into fists, and the way he inhales sharply at my suggestion. Yes, I've won. No doubt I'll get what I'm craving soon.

As I go to take another bite he speaks.

"On the table. Now."

"I'm sorry?" I blink, looking up at him as I process his command.

Without a moments hesitation, he clears the table of our food and lifts me onto it effortlessly. Towering over me, his large hands cup my face as he lips meet mine with a passion.

I moan, reaching up to tangle my hands in his hair before giving it a harsh tug of approval. He groans, moving his hands down to the waistband of my sweats. In one swift motion, he tugs them down and tosses them to the side without so much as a second glance.

"You're already so wet," he groans out before brushing his thumb over where my clit is hidden under the thin, lacy fabric.

I gasp and let out a shaky moan, resting my head on his chest as he repeats the action.

"Please... please," I beg softly, gripping his wrist tightly.

He quickly obliges, pulling the fabric to the side and sliding two fingers inside me quickly. I cry out, throwing my head back as he begins to pump them slowly, my legs falling open. I whimper as he curls them, looking up at his as he says my name.

"You're so eager, love," he whispers sweetly as he slides his right hand under my shirt to massage my breast.

"I need you," I moan out, biting at my bottom lip as I begin to move against his hand. "Please? Fuck me, Oliver."

With a groan he makes quick work of his sweats, pushing them down enough so they fall the rest of the way. I moan softly, licking my lips as his cock bounces free, hard and ready. His size, no matter how many times I'm with him, still surprises me. Grabbing my ankle, he pulls me to him before leaning over me.

"You're so beautiful. I love the way you look when I please you," he whispers into my ear before peppering my neck with kisses.

I moan his name, gripping his sides tightly as he fills me with one thrust. My back arches, and a loud cry slips passed my lips as my body adjusts to him. It doesn't take long, and soon his hips are slapping against mine as he speeds up his thrusts.

"You're so tight," he pants out, his grip on my waist firm as he angles his thrusts to hit my sweet spot. Oh, he knows exactly what I like and I love him for it.

I moan, listening to the table creaking beneath our combined weight. With how old it is, I'm surprised it hasn't collapsed.

"Oh my god!" I gasp as when he slams into me, the force momentarily knocking the air out of me. It's amazing, the way he makes me feel.

I bury my face in his neck, listening to him curse and praise me as his thumb works my clit, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

"I'm close, Ollie," I moan out moments later when our bodies are coated in sweat and our breathing is heavy. He groans in response, and I kiss over his neck and jaw. He finds my hands, giving them a gentle squeeze before repeatedly slamming into me.

"Come for me," he urges with a groan, kissing me with a passion that leaves me feeling dizzy.

I moan into the kiss, jerking my hips as I come. I dig my nails into his sides, cursing softly as I shake beneath him.

He pulls back to look at me, gripping my chin so I'm forced to look into his eyes as he rocks his hips with a shaky breath. I admire his face; his eyes focused on me, the beads of sweat on his brow, and the way his mouth has fallen open almost too much.

He comes with a loud groan, resting his head against mine as he rides out his orgasm. He slows his pace before coming to a top, kissing me lightly as he pulls out.

"I love you." he whispers softly, bringing his hand up to stroke my cheek.

"I love you too." I say with a small smile, the moment being interrupted when my stomach begins to growl. A smile tugs at his lips.

"Maybe we should finish breakfast."