09-25-2016, 12:33 AM
It isn’t the words that get through to him, or at least she doesn’t think it is. Maybe she could have said anything in that soft tone, all quiet and gentle as it reaches out and wraps around him and draws him in. He fights it; she can see the struggle in the way he trembles just a little, in the way his head bows as he struggles to maintain some semblance of control over himself.
And maybe she shouldn’t have pushed so hard, maybe she should have let him go, but the growl that escapes his throat makes her want to purr in response, and the heat in his eyes when he looks back at her sears through her and chases away any hint of doubt or regret. He bares his teeth, and her eyelids feel heavy with hunger and her heart starts to race. Oh, and then he’s coming closer, closing the distance between them, every line of his body screaming predator when she’s all too happy to be his prey. If she were anyone else, it would be a warning, a threat.
But all she sees is him, ferociously alive and so very, very close to touching her. So close. And then just the lightest brush of his lips as that ravenous growl continues. Oh, yes please. She returns that far too gentle touch, tracing the edge of his lips, the line of his jaw. No growl in response to his, but a breathy little sigh, angling her head in quiet invitation. His. For tonight, at least, she’s his.
And maybe she shouldn’t have pushed so hard, maybe she should have let him go, but the growl that escapes his throat makes her want to purr in response, and the heat in his eyes when he looks back at her sears through her and chases away any hint of doubt or regret. He bares his teeth, and her eyelids feel heavy with hunger and her heart starts to race. Oh, and then he’s coming closer, closing the distance between them, every line of his body screaming predator when she’s all too happy to be his prey. If she were anyone else, it would be a warning, a threat.
But all she sees is him, ferociously alive and so very, very close to touching her. So close. And then just the lightest brush of his lips as that ravenous growl continues. Oh, yes please. She returns that far too gentle touch, tracing the edge of his lips, the line of his jaw. No growl in response to his, but a breathy little sigh, angling her head in quiet invitation. His. For tonight, at least, she’s his.