Chapter Text
Rhea cannot help the rasping sigh that escapes her as soon as she sits on the foot of the hotel room bed.
What a week.
A string of house shows, culminating in her appearing on both Smackdown and Raw, a few feuds to tide her over for the time being, a title match next Monday. She was more than sufficiently busy—and was glad for it, too.
Her back hits the mattress with a soft ‘thud’, eyes closing as she sinks into the comfort of her pillow. It feels like she can finally relax, let her hair down. Her flight out of town wasn’t til late the next day—maybe she would even sleep in—indulge in that small part of herself that isn’t crying for her to be at the gym 5 hours a day.
Maybe she would get some room service as a treat.
That thought, however, is interrupted by the abrupt knocking on her door—
“Rhea~!”
—It’s a sing-song voice, warm, and imbued with energy. It’s Domink of course, and Rhea has long given up on trying to deny the warmth that floods her heart whenever he calls her by name. She gets to her feet, ignoring how tired her bones feel, and goes to let him in. He’s wearing a beanie, plus one of his dad’s shirts, and proffers a pizza box to her as soon as she opens the door.
“It has pineapple,” he smiles boyishly, cheeks still round with a layer of baby-fat, and Rhea can’t help but roll her eyes as she steps aside to let him scamper over the threshold.
“The whole thing?”
“Nah, just half,” he says, flipping the lid and digging out a slice of plain cheese pizza. “We aren’t all sadistic maniacs.”
Rhea snorts at that, throwing her head back to cackle, more than a little amused at the irony, given their relationship.
“Says you,”
(The very ‘you’ that had turned on his dad for a hot muscle goth—though, Rhea could not begrudge him in the slightest.)
Dominik doesn’t reply to the quip, instead he just smiles back as his face reddens, taking two quick bites in succession as Rhea saunters over to the box. It was half plain cheese, half pineapple, pepperoni, and bacon. There was a healthy dose of chilli flakes on top, too.
“Oh, you weren’t kidding huh?”
“You know I don’t like pineapple.”
“Or spicy?”
“Or spicy.”
Rhea smirks and reaches for a slice. One of his.
“But did you know that I’m also a huge fan of just cheese? Checkmate, Mysterio.”
Dominik smiles again, chewing as he does, but is decidedly bashful.
“Anything for you, mamí.”
And just like that, she feels the switch entirely.
The name is permission in itself. She can turn up the heat, or let things cool off. In all things, Rhea was the one in control.
Mostly.
They finish their slices, the quiet hum of frenetic electricity in the room is palpable. The box is left forgotten on the coffee table.
Rhea slinks into Dom’s personal space like a cat who caught the cream, eyes flickering appreciatively as she takes him in. All his hard work was slowly coming to fruition; his months grinding it out with Rhea and the boys were paying off significantly. The evident sculpt of muscle in his arms and chest in the warm lighting of the room was rather pleasing.
“Does mami like what she sees?” he asks, playfully, only for Rhea to respond with a quiet hum as her eyes glint in the warmth of the lamplight.
“You’ve worked hard.”
“Not as hard as you,” he remarks, a salacious twinge in his tone, a hand raised to rub his knuckles over the severe edge of her cheekbones. She doesn’t reprimand him for the comment as there was a definite truth to it; no one worked harder, or put in the hours. He had once told her that the gods would be jealous of her physique; the sharp edges and rippling muscle.
She was the object of desire for many, and not without reason.
His tongue darts out then, licking his lips as he chooses his next words.
“I wanna make you feel good.”
Rhea clicks her own, pleased at this development, allowing her arms to snake over his shoulders, pulling him flush to her. It’s Dominik who draws her in then; dipping close to press his lips to hers in an almost chaste fashion, but it’s Rhea who allows the fervour to take over, the gentle press of her tongue against the seam of his lip, enjoying the slight gasp that escapes him. She snakes a hand into the hair at his nape, tugging back to expose the column of his throat, exorcising a small moan in the process when she roughly tugs off his beanie and flings it across the room.
Devilishly, she licks a stripe along the muscle—another moan reverberating on her tongue—the barbell of her stud carrying the vibration. She presses a hand against his neck and squeezes, gently, a sharp gasp passes his lips
“Knees,” comes the order, and Dominik is more than eager to give her what she wants; instantly dropping to his knees, spread wide to get himself lower to the ground, eyes closed in bliss as Rhea traces the softer curve of his jaw.
“Lovely,” she hums, brushing his hair back from his face—his lips curling up in the corners as she does so. Softness was not often something she bestowed on Dominik; not something he usually requested. But tonight, she was feeling generous.
She sits, watching as Dominik’s eyes widen in their sockets when she relaxes back slightly, a lazy grin crawling over her face as she reaches to pop the top button of her trousers.
“Wait, mami,” he blurts, face reddening when her hand comes to a stop; a thumb curling around one of the belt loops in anticipation. She tilts her head, awaiting his request.
“Yeah? Tell me what you want,” she says, lips curling slightly.
Dominik eyes her cautiously, pulling his hands up from his sides to smooth them over the tops of Rhea’s wonderfully thick thighs. He slowly drops his chin onto the warm inside of one, and simply pouts at her, batting his eyelashes comically.
“Can I do it? Please?”
Rhea snorts, brushing back Dominik’s hair again before replying.
“Go ahead, baby.”
Dominik’s hands lack apprehension or anxiety; they have done this dance many times now, everything is well practised. Calculated, slow, undressing was part and parcel of everything they did, and everytime, Rhea would never shy away.
She relished in how he treated her.
The button pops out easily as he drags his fingers along her thigh, that lovely and firm touch pressing into the flesh. It’s obscenely pleasurable, and Rhea lifts her hips so he can hook his fingers over the waist to pull her jeans down. At one point she might have felt embarrassed at how badly she needed him, but when she lets her eyes flit over him, the sharp memory of him licking her flashes behind her eyes.
She finds that she doesn’t give a damn.
He gradually begins to pull at her pant legs, revelling in how the inked canvas of her thighs is revealed to him. They’re beautiful up close; he has made sure to tell her plenty of times, but he thinks that everytime he sees her bare, he spots something different. Rhea loves them, adores the ink and all its intricacies; she ruminates on the stories they tell, of all the meanings that she attributes to them. But right now she can only focus on how Dominik watches in reverence.
He undoes her laces too—puts her Judgment Day sneakers aside in adorably delicate fashion so he can finally slip off her pants, taking them gingerly and folding them with reverence. Rhea sits back, almost bare from the waist down, resting on her elbows and flexing her fingers in latent excitement as Dominik’s hands find the plush meat of her thighs again. She huffs quietly, a quick nod of permission as he ducks his head to press his lips to her knee.
It makes her shiver pleasantly; Dom’s pink soft lips, still swollen from their shared kiss, trace the delicate lines of her tattooed knees. He palms her flesh; fingertips delicately pressed into her smooth skin on both thighs, thumbs massaging her soothingly, and slowly begins to lavish on the exposed skin. Lips and tongue wet against the flesh—teeth dragging across her newly dampened skin.
“Dom,” she whines, patience being thoroughly tested by his ministrations. “C’mon.”
Eyes flashing, Dominik seals his lips around her and sucks, hard, teeth sinking into her, hard enough to draw some blood. It makes her moan from within the depths of her chest, makes her toss her head back when Dominik lays his flat tongue along the bruising skin.
His fingers skim over her thighs again, over the tops and behind to grab at her ass, inevitably drawing her closer til his nose brushes the fabric of her panties; the musk and heady scent of her arousal making him whine in the confines of his throat.
“Mami,” he groans, breath warm again, eyes shooting up to look at her, orbs glistening in her light. But before Dom even has a chance to say anything, Rhea gets ahead of him. Curling her fingers around the band of her panties, she hastily slips them off her hips, quickly revealing the trimmed hair of her mons.
Dom doesn’t even bother pulling them down the whole way—he’s far too eager to finally get a taste. He grasps at her thighs and pushes them apart, ducking beneath the fabric wrapped around her knees, and slots himself in snugly so he can finally, finally, put his mouth on her.
He licks, long and wanting, savouring the breathy moan that escapes her when back finally collapses against the mattress, his cock thickening against his thigh as he listens intently to her gasping breaths.
They’ve done this plenty of times now, and somehow, Rhea always tastes sweeter—better, even.
(He can remember the first time like it was yesterday; after a taping, they had been laughing and drinking together, their bond had slowly strengthened, chemistry heightened and a slow burning desire within both of them had finally spilled over.
He can recall the scrape of her nails against his scalp, how she had pushed him back onto the sofa with strong hands and had taken him right there. The press of her tongue, a hand tightening around his throat, the pleasurable clench as she slumped against him.
He can recall her face after; eyes bright and blue, grinning wildly at him, face red with satisfaction.)
Dominik grips her thighs in a desperate bid to get more of her, pulls her closer, and presses his tongue deep, eyes drooping closed as he begins to feast, licking sloppily and erratically, wanting nothing more than to pull echoes of pleasure from her. His nose bumps against her clit repeatedly as he opens his mouth and jaw, wide. The short hairs tickling his nose, her cunt, fat and swollen with arousal plump against his mouth.
“Dominik,” she whines breathily, making him open his eyes to peer ahead. She’s up on her elbow’s again, head tossed back and panting; he watches her chest rise and fall with heaving breaths, watches how she begins to snap and grind into his mouth, the jut of her hips making for perfect handles as he controls the hasty movements, all whilst she grabs at the sheets desperately. Licking diligently into her again, his eyes roam her physique freely, observing how the light curves over her muscles, creating shadow and depth between flesh and bone.
She’s a god, he thinks. She must be.
A hand wrenches itself into his hair then—pulls him with a yelp so that he can look into the stormy blue of her eyes—and feels the wrath of her growing impatience when she pulls that bit tighter.
“Get me off,” she half pants-grinds out, then purses her lips in a line before she can utter her final word.
“Please.”
“Anything for you, Mami,” he swallows his rough breaths then, dipping his head between her thighs again, dropping a hand from her hips to curl over her thighs toward her centre. He pushes back the hood of her clit and suctions his mouth over it, tongue now heavy and fat against it—and his straying hand, grazing the plumpness of her cunt and parting her gently, before pushing in three long fingers into sopping wet flesh. Another sigh then, another reward, and Dom curls his fingers, grazing that sweet spot that he knows will take her over the edge.
Above him Rhea keens, no longer begging or pleading, instead urging him on with a significant amount of impatience. She really could be a brat when she wanted to be.
He begins to fuck her with vigour then, pistons his fingers with skill and sucks diligently at her clit, eyes still on her, watching how she reacts to every single ministration of his; how her face contorts and body shakes, how she bucks and grinds her hips for him. He wants to wrench every ounce of pleasure from her, he wants to see her come undone.
“Dom—”
He sucks harshly, once more, and suddenly feels the overwhelming clench of her around his fingers, and is suddenly all too aware of the long drawn out keening that erupts from her. She moans, gasps, whimpers, grasps at the sheets beneath her as Dominik licks her long and proper, devouring her essence as if it were the last thing he would ever consume.
Above him she shakes and buckles, whimpering and she continues to cum and cum—and yet, he still can’t get enough. He’s sloppy with his tongue, licking her full and flush, nose wet and pressing to her clit again—and it’s only when he feels the soft grasp of Rhea’s hand in his hair, does he finally come up for her.
She pulls him to her; hand on the scruff of his neck and dragging him to her, eyes wet and blue, twinkling with adoration, her face beautifully flushed in the afterglow of her orgasm. Winding her arm around him, she kisses him again—the rough scruff of his shaven face dragging against her cheeks and chin. It’s automatic how she opens her mouth and lets her eyes close as she feels the rhythm of her heart begin to steady. The press of Dom’s tongue against her own makes her sigh contentedly, their noses and brows butting as she pulls him close with her hold becoming more and more possessive.
Their mouths slide together and apart as a hand roams up his clothed rib-cage, still seeking out that puppy softness from when he had first joined them. She can still taste herself on his tongue, she can feel the sticky wetness of herself smeared on his chin.
Propping himself up, he drags his body up along hers, their hips easily slotting between her thighs. He revels in the half-laugh-groan that slips from between her lips when his weight comes down on top of her. Breaking their kiss, she looks up at him, white teeth glinting in the room’s warm glow, and Dominik can feel the four chambers of his heart pound and flex in his chest. He loves her, he thinks, and he can’t quite believe it.
Suddenly—and easily—Rhea flips their positions, with Dominik finding himself on his back, Rhea above him, sitting flush on his hips comfortably, her weight snug against his trapped cock. She sits back on her thighs, her slip of underwear long gone, and bears down on him, her hips sliding forward, her fingers dragging up his clothed sides.
“Mami, fuck,” Dominik bucks up into her, his face heating up significantly as he watches her grind down into him. She gasps at the movement, hissing under her breath as he continues to buck into her, listening as Dom begins to moan and beg.
“Mami,” he gasps again, finally grasping the plush flesh of her waist, his thumbs digging in over the sculpt of muscle and bone to hold her in place. “I wanna—can I—”
She quirks a brow, a devilish grin stretching over her lips.
“What do you want, baby?”
From where she is—on top—she can see the same pervasive pink blush spread over Dominik’s cheeks as he fumbles for his words. The muscles of his throat flexing as he swallows when Rhea rolls her hips forward into his grasp.
“Wanna fuck you,” he grinds out, alarmingly tempered considering Rhea’s goading. She bites her lip in delight as he continues. “Wanna roll you over and take you right here.”
She throws her head back and laughs, warmth blooming in her chest as she places her hands flat against Dominik’s own, lowering herself to him, hair falling in his face and tickling his nose.
Her tongue flits over her lips as she grins down at him, excitement quickly brewing in her chest at what’s to come.
“Do it then.”
It’s as if a flip switches—again,—and Rhea suddenly finds herself on her back again, wrists pinned together over her head, restrained laughter bubbling in her throat at seemingly getting what she wanted.
She wanted this, she wanted Dom to take the reigns—she wanted him to fuck her.
He squeezes her wrists and leans in to press a firm kiss to her pulse, earning himself a wispy sigh in return, before pressing their lips together one last time.
“With pleasure.”