Like the good girl I know she can be, she stays dead still, the only give away that she wants this as much as I do is the way her breathing comes out heavy, the way her eyes are hooded and pupils blown.
I run a hand up between the valley of her breasts, nails biting into the skin at her collarbones until I find her throat, still injured from the fight she put up in the apartment.
An unexpected pang of guilt tightens my chest and I find myself feathering my touch over the delicate areas, somehow wishing that the bruises would go away if I just loved them enough.
Replacing my hand with my mouth I trail kisses up her chest, scraping my teeth across her collar and she tilts her head back, allowing me access to her throat. I bite and nip at her skin, pressing hard into her flesh.
My cock presses into her lower belly, wanting in on the action.
I shove her back on the bed and she glares up at me, her eyes narrowed.
I cock my head, watching her, top half naked, breasts heaving with each chaotic breath.
I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. I see the war within herself, the one in which she battles on whether she wants to kill me or kiss me and I live for this shit.
“Take them off,” I refer to the sweats.
“No.”
“Are you going to deprive yourself of this?” I ask.
“Are you?” She taunts.
I grin.
“Take them off, little bird.”
Grumbling, she hooks her fingers into the waist band and tugs them down her thighs, shoving them with zero grace.
“Happy?”
“Very.”
With her bare pussy on show to me, glistening with her arousal I almost snap. Seeing her naked is one thing, seeing her naked, needy and so very ripe for the taking is a whole other story.
“Touch yourself.”
“Fuck you.”
She does as she is told though, her delicate fingers working over her flat stomach and then dipping between her legs, smearing her wetness over the folds until she finds the little bundle of nerves at the top. Her head rolls back as she rubs her clit, eyes fluttering closed.
“Look at me.” I bark, palming my cock through the material of my pants.
Her eyes ping open and she levels me with a look that would flail a weaker man.
Her jaw twitches as her body tenses up, ready for her orgasm.
“Stop.” I order.
“What?”
“Stop!”
Her hand stops moving but she doesn’t come away from her core. I press forward, snatching her hand away.
“You’re a fucking asshole,” she grumbles.
I bury my face between her legs, licking her from her hole all the way to the top and she crashes down on the bed, her hips lifting, wanting more. I flick my tongue against her clit, sliding a hand up until it presses against the entrance.