So about the song... This is actually the song that has inspired me this story. I had this idea in my head since a long time, kinda like a music video for this song (Yes, yes, I often imagine music videos for the songs I listen to, don't you do it too? And sometimes, it inspires me for stories... 😏)

WARNING: THIS PART IS R-RATED 😏😉😈

'Let's Marvin Gaye and get it on'. Amory's gaze flickers to Juliet's pouty lips, so plump and tempting, and then, next thing he knows he's tasting them. 

He doesn't know if he's swooped on them or if she's the one who has jumped on his lips, but it doesn't matter. Any question about work, ethics, stained shirts, or awkward aftermath are forgotten, annihilated by the strength of their lips clashing. 

He would have expected the kiss to be slow and tender, seeing how shy and quiet Juliet is. Yet once again, she's surprising him, her lips and all her mouth demanding and assured, and he is as much, trying to decipher the mystery she is through conquering lips, curious fingers finding their way to her hips, and his tongue exploring the shape of her pout. 

Her lips instantly part to let him in, and as their tongues are mingling, he realizes the real riddle is what she arises in him. 

The desire is fusing through his veins, rushing down there, and it's just a kiss. He knows it's been a while since he's last kissed someone, but it's more than unreleased frustration. He can't comprehend it, and all he can focus on is the feel of her luscious lips moving perfectly against his. Even breathing is a foreign notion until she pulls away, and he can't catch his breath.

It's reluctantly that Juliet pulls away in need of oxygen, as just a kiss has taken her whole breath away. Yet she finds herself struggling even more to breathe as she opens her eyes and takes in what has just happened through the dark blue of Amory's unsettling eyes.

For a second the fear that he's regretting it is stabbing her at the same spot as her chocolate stain. It isn't just the loneliness, nor the humiliation of another Valentine's disillusion that is seizing her. It's just the need for more that he's awakened with just a kiss. 

She will probably die out of thirst if she never feels his lips again. They're as unsettling as him, rough and cracked, yet sweet and burning. She needs them; she needs him, and she glimpses the same desperation pouring out of his eyes. 

It's the first time she can read through his piercing gaze, and it sends a rush of boldness in her veins, unless it's his ragged pants mixing with the lyrics of the song.

'Just like they say it in the song... Until the dawn...'

Whatever it is, her hands are reaching for his cheeks, colliding their lips again, and Amory doesn't need more approval, returning the kiss with even more passion.

If she's thought the first kiss has been breath-taking, this one is taking her whole being. Breathless moans are escaping her mouth, and he sucks them in as eagerly as he's pulling on her lower lip. 

His hands are quickly claiming their territory lower, grabbing her butt and pulling her to sit up on the table behind them. Her body follows his commands easily, and she's arching for more, more of his touch, more of him. 

She's never been kissed like this. Just a kiss, and she's more turned on than she's ever been in the most intimate acts with her exes. There's something already deeper with just the swirls of his tongue against her and his hands through the fabric of her pants. It's the way he's hungry yet attentive, exploring her mouth and silhouette and getting lost in the kiss. 

Her heart is already hammering so fast, and not only in her chest. It's surely this second impulse that is leading her fingers to sneak in the slit of his shirt, and this time, she doesn't pull away when more buttons pop open. Her hands are brushing edges and lines she would have never imagined seeing Amory behind his computer, and a raw groan surprises her from his usually quiet lips.

Her hands are driving him wild, following a pattern along his chest that he can't decipher yet that is always too far from where all his blood is being pumped. His own hands are trying to pull her closer, while his lips are trailing along the soft skin of her jaw until her naked earlobe. 

She doesn't wear jewelry, nor much make-up, and Amory wishes he could tell her how he likes her natural beauty, yet the words are stuck on the tip of his tongue. 

'Sweet', 'simple', 'flavorful', 'hot', and others are clashing inside his head, but he doesn't say anything, afraid to ruin this precious moment. Instead, he uses the tip of his tongue to trace the arch of her ear and shows her how beautiful she is through his actions. 

His lips quickly come back to her rosy pout, needing more of her taste.

"Mmmh... you're even more addicting than your pasta..." he murmurs between kisses, pulling away abruptly when he realizes what he's just let out. 

He hasn't meant to say that; her fingers have been wandering too close to his belt, blurring his thoughts, and now, he's frozen on spot despite how hot her swollen pout is.

"I mean..." He means that like her homemade pasta, he doesn't know how he's ever been able to enjoy or want anything, anyone else, and he doesn't think he will ever taste something as delicious. 

But how to tell her without her taking it the wrong way when every time they've opened their mouths, there have been misunderstandings, except when their lips have collided to finally be perfectly in sync?

However, he should know by now that she is always taking him aback, doing the contrary of what he expects, and it's just a soft giggle that escapes her pout before she shuts him up with another luscious kiss.

Why is she turned on when she's compared to pasta? She doesn't understand, but something in his husky tone and intense gaze makes it sound like the most sensual compliment. 

Besides, she kinda feels as limp as noodles under his touch, and she is surely as red as her warm tomato sauce. With those talented lips, he can tell her anything, and as his voracious mouth trails lower to lick the chocolate along her neck, it's indeed a feast.

Her head tilts back to give him more access, and she would have never thought of this way to clean the mess of hot chocolate, but she's sure Amory won't leave an inch of the sweet mixture on her soft skin. Instead, he sucks other marks that are creating burning tingles in her core. 

She trails her fingers in his hair, finding it softer than she's imagined and tugging sharply when his mouth devours the sweet spot where her collar bone meets her neck. Her last boyfriend has needed five months to find it, how can Amory read her so easily?

Now, she has no doubt; she wants so much more. She wants to find out how much Amory can read her, feel how unsettling he can be. 

She abruptly pulls on his curls to crash their lips together again, showing him with her assured tongue rather than stumbling over the words. He immediately understands, wrapping her legs around his waist and giving her an obvious reply when their hips collide. 

The want is as hard for him, and she gets lost in the sensations of his warm body so close. They're still fully closed, yet every brush of their bodies is making her melt faster than the chocolate she can taste on his lips.

"You were right it's definitely underrated..." She nibbles on his lower lip, trailing a finger on the stain of his shirt to make sure he understands what she's talking about, and they're definitely on the same wavelength, as he grabs her hand, sucking greedily that same finger.

"I can show you more things... under... rated," he breathes out, biting the tip of her finger on the last word, while his unsettling gaze dives unequivocally into hers to let her see what's on his mind.

The thick and burning rush throbbing down between her legs is more intense than any rich hot chocolate, and her tongue slips out instinctively between her slightly-parted lips to find the sweet flavor of chocolate mixing with his unique savor like a foretaste of his mouth-watering invitation.

"Yes, please..."

His hands slide to her shirt as swiftly as the words are out of her swollen lips. He doesn't lose time, not bothering with opening the buttons and just pulling the shirt over her head to throw it somewhere on the floor. 

Nonetheless, he loses a few seconds, maybe minutes, along with his breath, when his gaze falls on her almost-naked figure.

She has just a simple white bralette covering her chest and contrasting with her tanned skin, and through the flimsy fabric, he can see easily her stiff peaks begging to be touched with every shallow breath she takes.

"Fuck..." he murmurs, intensely staring at every inch of skin exposed and still trying to pierce the mystery she is.

With a body like this, fit and luscious in just the right ways, she shouldn't be squirming under his awestruck gaze. She shouldn't be hiding under a too-large uniform. She is way hotter than Ines, yet no one can see past her cute face and pouty lips.

Maybe it drives Amory even wilder to be the only one who gets to see, appreciate, and feel the defined lines from her shoulders to her toned stomach. 

Of course, she's strong and fit, and she must be working out. She's one of the best field officers of the station. But she still has sensual curves, and this hourglass shape he's glimpsing makes his fingers rush to the buttons of her pants to uncover what's under.

However, Juliet outpaces him, searching to be even as she scrunches his shirt up to lift it over his head, and his admiration is suddenly interrupted, turning into a blur.

"You have beautiful eyes..." The words are breathed out above his lips, coming from the hazy figure in front of him and sending shivers throughout his whole body.

He guesses she is looking into his eyes, yet he's more aware of the loud hammering of his heart and of her touch traveling to his pants. 

It's growing so tight down there that when his belt is loosened and his fly follows, he can feel the relief washes over him, unless it's more desire with her fingers grazing just above the elastic band of his boxers. He's already throbbing for her touch so close, and he's never been so hard with just a heated make-out. He needs to see her to be sure it isn't just a fantasy of his lonely mind.

"Thanks, but I want to see how beautiful you are too." He carefully reaches for her face, guessing his glasses are on her small button nose, and he really wishes he could see clearly how cute she must look with his frames on.

His piercing gaze grows instantly darker and more unsettling as soon as he puts his glasses back on, though she barely has time to catch a glimpse of it before he swoops on her chest.

 His lips lose no time, finding their way to her taut breasts, and even through the flimsy fabric, he gives them the attention they're aching for.

She tries to contain her moans, but they're growing as fast as the pressure in her lower stomach. When his teeth tug on her right peak, she can't control the groan leaving her lips, neither the arch of her back nor the wiggle of her hips to seek some relief. 

He's so intense, and she's already about to implode as he unclasps her bra and his hands join to assist the torturous work of his mouth on her other breast.

She doesn't even mind when he extends one of his hands to push away some things on the table, and the glimpse of the station phone reminds her they're still at work. But she doesn't get to worry about work ethics or anything else as he's already making her lay down on the cold table, and something else catches her attention on the small of her back.

Amory doesn't expect to find a piece of cold metal under her back as she jumps slightly and her pout comes back. He even least expects the sight of this simple object to arise a wild urge deep inside. 

But maybe it isn't the handcuffs that are rousing this part of him – and not only the part in his pants – but the shaky breath escaping Juliet's pout.

His gaze flickers between the accessory, which he sees almost every day here, and her dark enticing eyes, and it's like everything aligns perfectly.

He doesn't even think about his next words. "Do you want it?"

"Y-yes... I mean... er.... I've never done this before, but I want to try."

He can decipher if it's certainty or desire in her dark gaze, but he's drowning in both.

"Me neither, if that can reassure you..." The nerves are starting to kick in his stomach, battling with the primal urge. Maybe he isn't made for this. He's a 'sweetheart', not the 'hot guy'.

But a soft laugh silences all his doubt. "We're probably the only police officers who never used them for this before!"

Maybe he isn't made for this, but this woman looks like she's made for him. There's something he can't explain in her sweet laugh and tempting pout that is making his wild hunger roar and take over inside.

"Let's fix this tonight then!" He wraps his arms behind her thighs, and as their lips collide, it's more than just a passionate kiss; it's them together falling into the unknown.

She realizes it when her back softly collides with the smooth surface of the couch, and she finds another intensity in his eyes as he slightly pulls away. 

He's still close though, so she can make out each tiny spark of light in the dark desire engulfing his irises, and she's transfixed by his gaze like admiring a midnight sky. She even glimpses a shooting star there, and she understands from where this sparkle comes when cold metal grazes her flushed right peak.

"Shit!" The gasp leaves her lips mindlessly as the handcuffs suddenly appear way hotter than she could have ever imagined, and the shivers running straight to her heated core are almost electric. 

She holds her breath, yet she doesn't blink away from his penetrating gaze as he brushes the cold handcuffs a few more times on her bare chest before lifting her arms above her head. All her nerve-endings are following the torturingly slow journey, and when the cold metal finally reaches her wrists, the faint click echo in all those nerves.

She isn't sure if the music is still playing; she doesn't know if the phone is ringing. It all forms a faraway buzzing in her ears, and all she hears are the loud poundings of her heart and lower, and their ragged breaths mixing in an imperfect rhythm. That's all she can focus on: Amory and the throbbing spot aching for him. 

He's heading there, leaving a trail of kisses and bites on his way down there, and she is writhing desperately under him, her hands already testing the firm lock of the handcuffs. It's tightly secured, of course. 

If criminals can't escape it, she won't either, but with Amory as her jailer, she'll gladly accept her sentence and endure the torture of his hungry lips.

What she is more worried about getting out of are her pants; they're keeping her too far from his touch. Yet it's not relief washing over her as the buttons are opened and the navy fabric instantly follows down.

'Shit', the word doesn't leave her lips, but it's echoing like an alarm inside her head. Shit! Shit! Shit! Why has she thought it's been a good idea this morning? 

Well, she hasn't planned to end up handcuffed and spreading out her legs for her quiet and mysterious colleague. It isn't usual for her, Valentine's day or not. It's already a luck that she's going to the swimming pool every week, so she's shaved. Though she doubts Amory will go further than the large barrier of her beige granny panties. 

Why has she thought it's been a good idea this morning? She remembers too well when she has picked them up this morning after her shower; the romantic spirit all around during her morning run has already spoiled her mood and hope, so she's only thought about the comfortable aspect. 

But now, as Amory's unsettling gaze is flickering between the ugly panties and her face, where more blood is rushing to the point she's about to explode, she's never felt more uncomfortable. 

Actually, she wishes she could explode right now; it would be less painful because she's already picturing him leaving her like that and the humiliation of her colleagues finding her handcuffed tomorrow morning. She can hear the mocking laughs and various guffaws when a tearing sound brings her back to reality, and she doesn't even have time to realize what's happening. 

Amory's lips are already on her core, pumping the blood out of her face to rush it back between her legs, and the possible humiliation is forgotten as fast as the ripped shreds of her panties.

"Oh my god!" She doesn't know if her gasp is from the ravenous look in his eyes – apparently, her panties don't have put him off, only whetting his appetite – or from the patterns of his tongue already feasting on her wetness.

Actually, it's from the intensity he's gathering in her lower stomach.

She can't decipher the swirls and flicks of his tongue against her throbbing center, but all she knows is that every time she is close to the devastating orgasm, he slows down, only keeping a few light dabs of the tip of his tongue to keep away her release yet not the pressure, and then, he picks up his pace all over again. 

Her heart has never thudded so fast, especially between her legs, and she feels like a ticking bomb, depending on Amory and which string he decides to tug.

She's arching her back, offering him to pull whatever he wants, and when his mouth moves just a micro-inch, her tied hands instinctively find their way to his messed hair to keep him close. Yet his strong hands remind her she's at his mercy with a firm push on her wrists and on her lower stomach.

"Be a good girl, and keep your hands above your head." His raspy words send an electric current through all her body, awakening a part of her she would have never imagined. 

But as she complies, putting her handcuffed hands above like a good girl, she lets the desire engulf her completely.

"Pleeasee... Amory!" The way she moans his name, pleads his name, unlocks the last bit of his control inside, and he lets the primal urge take over as he latches his mouth back on her swollen nerves. 

Her moans are music to his ears, and actually, he doesn't pay attention to the real songs playing on the radio. 

All his attention is on Juliet, like the mystery she is that hypnotizes him. Though he doesn't try to decipher her anymore. He just wants to make her come undone, and his tongue is trying every combination to get it, while his fingers are sliding easily in her opening.

He can see she's close, her stomach spasming under his flat palm and her tight muscles gripping around his curled fingers. His hardness is already twitching painfully like a reminder that he needs to feel her wrapped around him.

"Say my name," he demands, barely lifting his lips from her pulsating core, just enough to watch her face as her rosy pout has now morphed into red parted lips, and her dark eyes are scrunched in uninhibited pleasure.

"A-Amo-ryyy!" Her cry travels straight to his tight pants, and he groans against her core as her thighs start to quiver.

He makes sure to spread the shudders of pleasure through her whole body using his lips, tongue, teeth, and fingers with no restrain until she is whimpering his name again and again. 

His eyes don't even know where to look, roaming from her bound wrists above her head all over her arching body until her toes curling in pleasure, as it all forms a sight that no fantasy could ever live up to. 

He savors every detail, literally and figuratively, knowing with a rush of pride and adoration that he's uncovering a treasure no one else has seen this way.

"I was right... You're definitely more addicting than your pasta."

His sinful tongue traces her parted lips, and she reopens her eyes to find his ardent gaze so close, sending a light tremor between her legs like an after-shock, or maybe a new wave of desire rising?

She is barely coming down from the earth-shattering high he's just propelled her in, yet as his tongue slips into her mouth, she's shivering for more. 

She can taste herself on his lips, along with a hint of chocolate, a few remaining pinches of her famous pasta, and of course, his own addicting savor. It's a dizzying mix, and her heart doesn't have time to come back to a steady rate, already rocketing faster with a hunger for so much more. 

She can feel this 'more' poking in the lowest part of her stomach, and she wriggles against it and every part of him the best she can. While his lips trail up to her wrists again, hers start to suck any inch she can reach along his toned chest.

"Mmmh... Do you want me to undo them?" His low groan turns into a serious and attentive tone with the question, his gaze seeking down hers, while his fingers are brushing the smoothest part of her palms to create a mix of light tickles and electric tingles.

Her movements are restricted with those handcuffs, and she can feel a light burn around her wrists from her desperate attempts to break free. But does she want him to undo them?

"No." she breathes out just above where his heart is hammering louder and louder. It may only be a panting murmur, but it's assured, and she confirms everything with her eyes.

There's something electrifying to be at Amory and his unsettling aura's mercy, and so far, he's only given her reasons to beg for more. Although she doesn't know who is more desperate as his hands are rushing to slides down his pants, and a breathless 'fuck' leaves his lips when she grazes her teeth along his pecs.

However, he freezes all his movements just when she's about to feel him. "Fuck! The condom!"

Condom, it's been too long since she's last seen one, but now, she's frantically raking her brain to know where to find one.

Of course, loners like Amory and her don't carry condoms on them, even less at work; it doesn't resemble them to hook up during their shift. Yet there's no way she can stop, and she's starting to understand Ines.

"That's it! The first-aid kit!"

Amory snaps his head at her, and she finds his lifted eyebrows again.

"I think there's some in it," she explains, remembering one of Ines's numerous stories about how she's generously comforted a 'hot guy' who's got his bike stolen.

Juliet has judged it so unprofessional at the time, and now, look where she is: naked and handcuffed on the station couch, the laptops and stacks of work discarded in a corner. 

Yet when her gaze falls back on Amory, and the red square package he's tearing open while kicking off his shoes, she doesn't have an ounce of professionalism left. In fact, it's surely thrown out the window as her gaze slides lower and her breath is caught on his erection standing proud and hard.

'Unsettling' is one way to put it, and after this, she will never look at the nerdy guy behind his computer the same. For the moment, she's staring, hypnotized by the sight of his large hands slowly unrolling the condom on his also big hardness.

He's too slow, and she's wondering if he's teasing her on purpose, or if it's just the heart rate between her legs that is too fast.

 From the hidden smirk at the corner of his lips, she's sure he's walking in slow-motion, and she joins his teasing game, arching her back in a movement she hopes looks sexy – judging by the way he wets his lips, it must work – and moaning his name.

Those few seconds of 'teasing' seem to heighten the already-overwhelming pressure around, and it's like the air is echoing the pulsations of their hearts, maybe with the rhythm of a song Juliet is too distracted to recognize.

When he's finally hovering over her, there's no more game though. He seeks her approval with the most transparent yet dark look she's ever seen, and she replies as sincerely and greedily, "Yes, please."

He instantly enters her, but still being careful as her muscles are stretching around him, and he only stops when he's fully inside her. 

None of them moves for a moment where their puffed gasps are mixing; their wide blown-out gazes are meeting, and they both take in these sensations, getting lost in them. 

It's more than just finding the feeling of being filled again, or how she's pulsating around him. They're forming one despite their imperfections and differences. It's a mystery they'll never understand. 

He feels it too; she can read it in his intense eyes as his fingers are softly brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

"How... How do you... want it?" He asks between restrained pants that prove they're both suffocating under the pressure, and even if they want to savor this extraordinary moment, they're about to implode if they don't release it soon. "Sweet and slow?" He lightly pecks her lips. "Or hard and fast?" He tugs roughly on her bottom lip with his teeth.

Both sensations are collecting more desire down her throbbing heat, each in their opposite way. Yet she has no hesitation as she replies, "I want you."

Her tied hands manage to wrap behind his neck, and when she pulls him closer to kiss him fully, his heart jumps higher than ever, and it pumps a wild surge to all his body. 

He withdraws his hips slowly to then slam them back in one rough thrust. He can feel it knocking her breath out as his lips are still sealed on hers, and his own breath is taken away by the tight grip of her muscles around him. 

She may have her hands tied, but she's far from passive. Her whole body is pulling all of him with an irresistible intensity. Her fingers are tangling in the small curls at the base of his neck, and her legs are wrapping around his waist to draw him closer, while her lips are now trailing along his jaw, finding new sweet spots he's had no idea about, and her hips are meeting his, perfectly following the rhythm of his thrusts.

He doesn't hold back; he doesn't question about being 'sweet', being 'hot', too much, or not enough. He just follows this wild instinct that Juliet is spurring through his veins with each of her sinful moans. 

The station phone is ringing, but the concept of work doesn't cross his mind, and the mix of X-rated groans and hips clashing are progressively swallowing the faint ringing, just like the ardent lust has engulfed their work ethics.

"Oh yes-yes! Right–" She's choking on her own breath as he's hitting that deep spot again and again at an indescribable pace.

His thrusts are alternating between fast and quick, short and deep, rough and languid at a rate she can't make out. It's... unsettling; it's exactly him, and she's already getting drown under the intensity he's building in her core. The tinglings there are stronger than the ones he's created with his mouth minutes ago, yet she can't even know if she's close or far from her orgasm. 

All she knows is that she needs more of him; that's why she's moaning his name again and again, her teeth grazing the damp skin of his neck, where she can hear his heart thudding as fast as hers.

"Fuck! Juliet!" His hips become even more untamed if that's possible, and one of his hands kneads roughly her right breast, while the other sneaks slowly and softly between her buttcheeks.

So many tingles, so many different intensities are springing from all those touches. She's getting dizzy, slipping completely in the electric feeling.

"Come for me, Juliet..."

That's only with his words that she realizes her orgasm is here, hitting her with no warning, and all the tinglings are gathered together in a shattering explosion that burst ecstasy through every inch of her body. 

"Oh my go– Amor..." Her words are getting annihilated by the pulsations spreading through her whole being and apparently also to him as his thrusts become wilder and ragged.

Her head collapses on the couch as he's intensifying the strength of her orgasm, getting lost in his high, and she fights her eyes open to witness this raw part of him. 

His gaze is a surreal shade of blue, like a rare night sky where the meteor shower is a wave of pleasure, and it draws out her own bliss to another galaxy as he hunches forward.

"Oh my– Fuck! Juliet! Juliet!" he grunts her name again and again, as there's no other word to describe what's happening to him. 

It's stronger than all the orgasms he's ever had; it's a mystery. It's Juliet, and with each spasm of her muscles around him, she's invading him a little bit more, sending a delicious and dizzying ecstasy through his veins until he's shuddering and filling the condom with his release.

It's reluctantly that he pulls out of her warmth, and as he slumps the best he can beside her on the couch, he still has trouble grasping the sparking bliss remaining in his veins like a daze from another galaxy.

"Wow! It was..." He searches for the right word to make her understand what he himself can't comprehend.

"Underrated?" A slow smile forms on her puffy red lips, and he chuckles, as he wouldn't have found a better word. "Yes!"

He stares at the 'underrated' mystery in front of him, his fingers naturally brushing her flushed cheeks and tracing the pout forming on her lips, as if to make sure she isn't just a fantasy of his lonely mind. Although even his wildest imagination wouldn't make her up, and certainly not her next words.

"But next time, can I use the handcuffs on you?"

"Gladly! And I have some days to take off!" He grins before eagerly crashing his lips on hers and taking the breaths they both have barely caught.

He knows he'll have to undo the handcuffs soon, but for now, none of them seems to mind as they're getting lost in the underrated passion.

The night will be long indeed, though as the phone is ringing and staying unanswered, and their naked bodies are mingling, it surely isn't how they've imagined it would unfold. 

After all, who would have thought this overrated day would end up in a rated-R night?

THE END

I hope you liked this little Rated Story, and that it made your Valentine's Day funnier and hotter! 😉🔥😏 Let me know in the comments what you think of these two lovebirds, and vote ⭐ if you loved them!

I just wanna say that 'you're even more addicting than your pasta...' is my new favorite pick-up line! 😂

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY, MY LITTLE RAYS OF SUNSHINE!!! Remember that in couple or in single, you're loved! 😘💕