Tom Holland smuts

Dine out (part 2)

to kiss you, opening his mouth and flicking his tongue inside your mouth. Pulling away, he flashes you a smile.

The whole car ride was torture. Heat had already pooled between your legs at the mere sight of him in that tux, the shirt straining on his muscular chest, his tux tightening around his biceps as he drove. His left hand left the steering wheel to stroke your leg, leaving trails of fire on your skin. You bite your lip, becoming even wetter still. He never spoke a single word to you until the two of you pulled up at the restaurant.
"Behave yourself, kitten," he murmured, winking, before opening the car door to allow your exit.
Walking in, you immediately recognised half of the cast, seated at a large table in the centre of the room. Tom pulled a chair out for you to sit down, and sat easily next to you, beginning to have a conversation with Jacob. Tom's hand had made it's way to your right knee, tracing delicate circles.
Food was served and conversation flowed. You were often a