I roll her onto the mat, letting her scramble to meet me face to face. I cage her between my arms and trap her beneath me. She’s fucking pissed, and I love it. The playfulness that was in her eyes moments ago is gone to the wind, replaced by fire.
I watch Mila with interest; this close and in good lighting, her bright green eyes are dotted with flecks of blue so tiny it would be easy to miss them. Her button nose flares as she calms herself after my attack. I’m dangerously close to her and have her underneath me and under my control.
A few moments pass, and she pinches her eyebrows together, parting her lips slightly as several questions pass through her eyes. My eyes zero in on her mouth—so plump, so fucking perfect.
I reach up and, with one finger, tuck the lock of hair still stuck to her forehead behind her ear. Letting my finger linger before trailing it along her cheek. I smirk when Mila’s breath catches in her throat while I rub her bottom lip with the pad of my thumb.
Edging closer, I level my forearms on the mat, closing the already limited space between us. I wasn’t aware my dick was hard until it pressed against Mila’s pelvis and twitched. Just barely brushing my lips against hers, she responds by tracing her fingernails along the sides of my torso.
“To be completely honest, Cupcake,” I whisper. “If kissing your feet would make you smile as you did a few minutes ago, I might just fucking do it. I’m not sure there’s much I wouldn’t do to see that again.”
“Ahem,” Bastian clips from my right.
We’ve lost ourselves in each other, forgetting our surroundings. I caught Mila in an intimate moment and held her hostage. Until the reality that is Bastian broke through, his rage burning into the side of my head.