06-09-2017, 01:21 AM
kharon
"I would do anything for you."
So soft, barely heard. Meant only for him, this promise. And it was a promise, he could hear it in her voice, see it in her eyes as she stared deep into the gray of his. She stepped back to allow him space to stand, and he did, only to feel her light touch against his shoulder send shivers down his arm. For now, he ignored it, tried not to show any reaction as he guided them steadily back to the water, his mind stirred and jumbled.
He had to do the right thing.
But what was that?
As soon as they reached the water, she stepped in. He turned deliberately away, mumbling that he'd go after. That he'd wash the mud from himself after she was done. And he wasn't going to watch her, though of course he didn't say that part.
Turned out, he didn't have to. It didn't matter that he couldn't see her. Because her thoughts were clear, so clear. And she thought of everything, every little detail. Accidentally painting for him the very picture he was trying to avoid, of the water rising up her sides, her nose dipping in to caress smooth little ripples. And it was cold, the water was cold. He could come and warm her. His heartbeat quickened and he was rooted in place, staring away into the trees and not seeing a single thing with his eyes.
"Come," she called softly for him, and though he was turned away where she couldn't see, his eyes closed. That was such a bad idea. Such a fantastic idea. "Join me, please?" She wanted him near. She wanted him to touch her, to gently scrub the thick mud from her perfect body. Fuck. And she wanted to clean him, too. Together. Oh, man. That sounded really good. Sooo good.
But he was a teen. Practically a man. He was hormonal as fuck, and even he knew it. Even he could see how close he was riding this dangerous edge, how it tormented him and drove him mad. If he went in that water, he wasn't coming out with just touching her. Or just kissing her. He knew he shouldn't, but he turned his head and looked at her over his shoulder, his eyes bright with lust as he took in the sight of her drenched body. If he went in, he'd know that body. He'd listen to her mind and learn all the ways to make it sing for him, everything she liked, puzzle out and explore everything that set her off.
He swallowed and tore his eyes away again. He really, desperately needed to leave.
"I gotta go," he croaked to empty air, only just loud enough for her to hear. Only just. "I'll see you at home." At home. Where they sleep together, side by side. Yet another place where he had to keep to himself and not touch her. Not with Mother right there, with Dad nearby, with Father around. What if they did too much? What if they got caught and they separated him from her. He had to do what was best for them. And separation definitely wasn't what he had in mind. Distance wasn't best for them.
Yeah, he should definitely go. And he walked stiffly away, hoping she wouldn't try to stop him or follow.
So soft, barely heard. Meant only for him, this promise. And it was a promise, he could hear it in her voice, see it in her eyes as she stared deep into the gray of his. She stepped back to allow him space to stand, and he did, only to feel her light touch against his shoulder send shivers down his arm. For now, he ignored it, tried not to show any reaction as he guided them steadily back to the water, his mind stirred and jumbled.
He had to do the right thing.
But what was that?
As soon as they reached the water, she stepped in. He turned deliberately away, mumbling that he'd go after. That he'd wash the mud from himself after she was done. And he wasn't going to watch her, though of course he didn't say that part.
Turned out, he didn't have to. It didn't matter that he couldn't see her. Because her thoughts were clear, so clear. And she thought of everything, every little detail. Accidentally painting for him the very picture he was trying to avoid, of the water rising up her sides, her nose dipping in to caress smooth little ripples. And it was cold, the water was cold. He could come and warm her. His heartbeat quickened and he was rooted in place, staring away into the trees and not seeing a single thing with his eyes.
"Come," she called softly for him, and though he was turned away where she couldn't see, his eyes closed. That was such a bad idea. Such a fantastic idea. "Join me, please?" She wanted him near. She wanted him to touch her, to gently scrub the thick mud from her perfect body. Fuck. And she wanted to clean him, too. Together. Oh, man. That sounded really good. Sooo good.
But he was a teen. Practically a man. He was hormonal as fuck, and even he knew it. Even he could see how close he was riding this dangerous edge, how it tormented him and drove him mad. If he went in that water, he wasn't coming out with just touching her. Or just kissing her. He knew he shouldn't, but he turned his head and looked at her over his shoulder, his eyes bright with lust as he took in the sight of her drenched body. If he went in, he'd know that body. He'd listen to her mind and learn all the ways to make it sing for him, everything she liked, puzzle out and explore everything that set her off.
He swallowed and tore his eyes away again. He really, desperately needed to leave.
"I gotta go," he croaked to empty air, only just loud enough for her to hear. Only just. "I'll see you at home." At home. Where they sleep together, side by side. Yet another place where he had to keep to himself and not touch her. Not with Mother right there, with Dad nearby, with Father around. What if they did too much? What if they got caught and they separated him from her. He had to do what was best for them. And separation definitely wasn't what he had in mind. Distance wasn't best for them.
Yeah, he should definitely go. And he walked stiffly away, hoping she wouldn't try to stop him or follow.