He smiled at that fight in her eyes, the way she shoved against him. It wasn't all her strength, he could tell. Which only made it better. She'd fight him, but deep down she wanted this too. Just as much as he did.
He stood and watched her. And waited. Delighted by her stubborn chin lifting at his command. Which way would she take this with them? Everything with her was always so unpredictable, edge-of-your-seat startling. He fuckin loved that. And hated it. And he loved that he loved and hated it. She made him such a damn mess. She was such a damn mess.
The burning desire in his eyes flared brighter, hotter, as she came to her feet so slowly. He ravaged her with that gaze, took in every inch like a starving man at a feast. Fuck, she was gorgeous. All that soft blue, the lacy white, her dark hair. It almost brought up memories, but he thrust them violently away. Nothing would have his attention tonight but her.
Just them.
She answered his command. She stood. And then shifted that fine ass against the damn wall. As always with him, he went from one extreme to another without warning. It probably hadn't had the effect she'd thought it would. They were both a little unpredictable that way. His heat suddenly dropped, smoldering quietly in the furnace of his eyes, his smile softening and widening to a boyish grin and a soft chuckle. Always on her own terms too.
So he'd meet her in the middle, then.
He didn't mind. He liked how she stood up to him like this.
His lips rolled into his mouth, licking them, but it couldn't wipe that smile off his face and he gave up. He walked over to her, his body relaxed save for being rock hard under his hips, and tilted his head to brush a tender nuzzle beside her mouth.
"You are too good at me," he murmured so softly, leaving a kiss in the corner of her mouth. "Just by being you." And as always with her, he was thrilled and yet hated it.
He'd also never kissed her and neither had she.
He wasn't sure they were quite ready to cross that one off.
He trailed his mouth over her cheek, over the curve of muscle high in her neck, until his nose was lost in her hair and he could breathe her in. His body swayed involuntarily closer, leaning on her enough to feel her skin against his in places where he remained bare on his neck. He was enjoying this too much, the soft side. They were both safer if he kept it rough and desperate, but there were too many sides to him. And he craved this too.
Still smiling, he turned his head to look at her, nose at the edge of her hair, right at her arched nape. "C'mon, baby," he said quietly, a playful plea. They both knew they both wanted this. It was just games until she gave in. They both knew it.
"Let me be good at you too."
we're slaves to any semblance of touch
Lord, we should quit but we love it too much
