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He pants too, his eyes dark and burning. “I warned you.”
I lick his lips, shamelessly. “Don’t… Don’t stop.”
I feel my waist being squeezed and my hair being tugged at, making me realize that he’s got both his arms around me. Staring into my drugged eyes, he growls, “You sure about this?”
Which in turn makes me realize wheremyhands are — buried in his hair — and so I pull at his strands. “I’m gonna die if you don’t kiss me.”
He chuckles, which is more or less simply a puff of air, his chest moving. “Listen, I —”
I pull his hair even harder and undulate against him. “Fucking kiss me, Bandit, or I swear I’ll kill you before I die. And —”
He kisses me.
Good.
Probably because he got scared. Which is even better, because I wasn’t lying.
I’m aware, in a very vague way, that we’re moving.
That he’s begun to walk while still kissing me and sucking on my lip, nipping and biting. Something that I realize that I love. Him taking little bites out of my lips, making them sting in such a delicious way.
Hurting my mouth while making love to it.
But again, my happiness is short-lived.
Because he once again breaks the kiss. Plus I realize that I’m not even in his arms anymore.
That I’m lying on the bed and he’s hovering over me.
I frown. “W-what —”
He shushes me with a hard kiss and a bite, before he crawls away from my body and springs back to his feet, and restless, I come up on my elbows to see what he’s doing.
And when I see it, I immediately realize that breaking the kiss was the right idea.
I was being stupid. Selfish.
Because while I have seen him multiple times without his clothes on — well, without his shirt, but still — he hasn’t seenmeyet.
He hadn’t seen me up until this point.
Up until this point, he had kept his eyes on my face only. He hadn’t gone down.
He is now though.
Now he’s looking at every part of me. From my disheveled braid to my flushed cheeks. My rapidly breathing chest and my jiggling tits. My hard, berry-colored nipples. My clavicles. My ribs, the curve of my belly. My thighs and calves.
The shiny thing around my ankle.
His gift.
From long ago.
His eyes fly back to me when he sees it.
Biting my lip, I tell him, “I thought you’d like it. Me wearing your gift for you.”
His Adam’s apple jumps and his eyes both flare and go up in flames.
