The frigid wind blows in ferociously through the open windows, sweeping past and thereby awakening me against my wishes.
The sun offers a kiss to the gloomy sky as it rises in the east, gracing the heavens with its warm rays intent on brightening up the day ahead, bidding the moon farewell yet well aware that she will return when darkness falls. However today —similar to my raging emotions— the clouds are a dark shade of gray, growing heavier with the tears of weeping angels.
In my daze, I feel something warm being draped over me and I'm slowly lured back to sleep.
The feeling of crisp air breezing through the open windows and softly brushing the hairs on my skin rouses me from my slumber for the second time.
An exhausted sigh escapes my lips as I blink my bleary eyes open and settle my gaze on the carved wooden headrest of the bed.
Tiredness courses through my bloodstream, muscles weak and in need of rest. However, all plans of remaining in the warm comforting embrace of the bed are thrown out the window when I feel the hard surface beneath me rumble lowly and move, expanding and contracting several times.
Weakness disappears as my eyes widen in alarm, the scent of my fear permeates the air as I press my palms firmly on the surface, steadying myself to jump up from the bed. Immediately, something strongly encircles around my waist and presses me firmly against the hard surface.
My mouth parts intending to scream but a firm hand presses to my mouth and the sound comes out muffled. Scared and mind-reeling, I whip my head to the side, locking with a familiar set of dark eyes.
Aïdon lays on my bed, his large frame taking up the entirety of the space. His eyes despite being fogged with exhaustion are alert, hair tousled– some nightlike ringlets falling over his forehead while others frame the pillow on which his head lays.
He blinks, long dark lashes which frame his face fall like wings, and those alluring dark eyes are hidden momentarily.
The sound of my heart thudding rings loudly in my ear, blocking out all other sounds.
My chest rises and falls with each heavy, uneven breath I take.
Memories flash before my eyes and each one draws blood from my face. Me crying, screaming, and thrashing wildly in the sheets, red... vibrant, and haunting tainted on every inch of me. I see him— one with the darkness as he approaches me yet the moon's serene glow casts itself upon him so he resembles a fairytale knight, him holding me throughout the night with such gentleness that opposes everything I know him for.
How could a man scenting heavily of death offer a sense of peace yet unknown to me? I will never know.
But he did, and I basked in it.
Anger consumes me at my actions— rapidly coursing through my veins and spreading to other parts of me. A vision of me whimpering and shedding tears on him plays like a broken record in my head. A tiny voice whispers, "you showed weakness."
I slept like a mere babe in his arms and let him cradle me to his chest, fingers clawing into his flesh eager to touch a deeper part of him and latch onto it never to let go.
A fool; that is what I am.
Searching and embracing comfort in the darkness I was taught to run away from. A fool I was born and a fool I remain.
Like a strike of lightning moving swiftly, I rip myself from his embrace and I find myself on opposite ends of the bed, observing his movements. The sudden action surprises him, that much is said by the way his eyes widen slightly and his jaw tightens, a pale blue vein running down the side of his neck ticks in annoyance.
A part of me expects him to say something... To mock me perhaps. To my greatest surprise, he doesn't, only shifting into a more comfortable position and tucking his arms under his head.
I am confused. My head tilts in the slightest as I watch him, I shift in my spot and pull on my gown so it covers my legs.
I notice then his shirtless state, black cotton pants hanging low off his hips so the white band of his boxers shows. The man is deliciously ripped – rough edges in his features which add to his already existing sexual appeal, toned abs which contract with each inhales, muscular arms that flex when he shifts in the slightest. His entire aura screams dominating, demanding attention.
Mindless of his identity, I must admit he's hot, regardless of the dried line of drool stuck to his left cheek and the pillow marks indented temporarily onto his skin which he somehow pulls off. Under different circumstances and without a cultural difference, I wouldn't think twice about going out for a drink or two with him.
Abruptly, he heaves an annoyed sigh as he lifts his right hand, muscles bulging, and runs it through his hair.
"Do you desire to be bent over the table right now?"
His voice like the harsh rumble of stones grinding against the other drifts into my ears, I find myself flushing a shy pink and my thighs squeezing tightly just as I feel my pussy begin to throb. My eyes dart to the lean muscle of his exposed abdomen, tracing the defined lines of his abs.
I definitely wouldn't mind that.
Supporting himself with both arms, he lifts his head off the pillow and narrows his eyes at me, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Ah," he hums, "you'd like that wouldn't you."
It isn't a question yet I shake my head to stop my imagination from running wild and find myself whispering. "No." I curse in my head, my voice emerging breathy, weak and wanting, a silent request laying underneath.
I watch transfixed as the corner of his lips quirk into a sexy, knowing smirk. "Then stop staring or I might get tempted to eat you."
I insist, "I wasn't staring."
In a blur he is suddenly above me — muscular thighs straddling my legs as he presses his hips down to hold me firmly in place. One hand holds both of mine trapped above my head, while the other finds home on my neck, veiny fingers wrapping around the delicate curve of my nape and squeezing tightly enough to deliver his message.
Skin against the skin for the first time since our insane meeting, the feeling of having him pressed against me is divine. Hard muscles to my soft flesh, trapping me like prey he plans to feast on, it makes my head spin and my body desires to sink into his heat. Up close like this, his scent intoxicates me, leather and wood... Like the wild.
I gasp and throw my head back, giving his hand more space to grip my nape as my slick inner walls clench at the intensity of the predatorial look in his eyes.
His jaw clenches so pale blue vein ticks and he speaks in a tone that has my heart pounding, "I'm not a fan of little girls who lie," a pause, "repeat that sentence... I dare you."
Biting the inside of my cheek as my eyelids flutter, I struggle to suppress a moan but a strangled sound escapes, and his pupils dilate. God, how long has a been since I had a man wrap my hair around his fist? Way too long.
His fingers press down on the sides of my neck, the sudden pressure causes my eyes to widen and my lips part to gulp air greedily.
Dark eyes now dancing with a speck of red in the center are trained intently on my frazzled self, luscious lips I crave to have a taste of, and silk inked hair my fingers itch to hold onto for dear life. Fuck he's hot.
But he's also a forbidden fruit; deadly and intoxicating once tasted.
"What're you thinking?"
The question has me blinking, trying to sound firm and failing, "nothing."
He applies pressure to my neck, not too much to bruise but this time harsher than the last and successfully cutting off my airflow. I gasp, hands reaching up to grab his biceps and squeeze, pleading as my eyes water.
He releases me but his fingers remain firmly wrapped around my nape. "I won't ask again."
Coughing raggedly, I blink through a haze of colors and offer him a whimsical smile, "about how good I'd feel if you got your obese body the fuck off me."
Lips tilting in a half-smile in amusement, he leans down making me freeze when his hot breath fans over my sensitive skin.
"If I recall correctly," He lightly brushes his nose over the exposed juncture of my collarbone, the pads of his thumb lightly skimming over my skin and a mind-blowing flutter-like sensation is evoked within me that has my heart thumping like a timpani. My chest rises and falls rapidly at the feeling. "...you weren't saying that last night."
Just like that he disappears, leaving me to gnash my teeth while I glare daggers at the ceiling above. All the while pressing my aching thighs together.
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