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"You're alright?" We spent some time in silence, Niall's hand softly placed on my tummy while I traced the muscles on his forearm mindlessly. 

Still bit exhausted I leaned back, laying my head on his shoulder. My professors lips made their way towards mine, kissing the corner of my mouth. I was very much alright. Yet I waited for the shame to kick in, to consume me and make me regret everything that has happened. 

I waited seconds, maybe minutes. Nothing. It could be a good sign, that I finally grew out of this weird phase. But another thing spread through my thoughts: It was the sightly uncomfortable feeling of a man being so calm and nice to me. It felt wrong in some way, like Niall would judge me in silence for the noises I made or my smell or my taste or anything you could get unsure about.

The silence was killing me.

"Thank you." I finally mumbled, wiggling out of his grip to turn my head and kiss him deeply. On one hand, a "thank you" was definitely not what I intended to say but on the other hand it was time to appreciate all he did for me. He always looked out for me, making me feel at ease. And men where suckers for compliments too, especially when they were so power-hungry as Niall.

It was not very nice to think of him like that but what was I supposed to do? I loved playing with him and having the secret upper hand. An upper hand I needed in this game of ours. 

Retracting from his grabby hands and soft lips, I crawled towards the edge of the bed, taking my jeans off the floor. 

"Why do you thank me?" Confusion lingered over his voice that wasn't as deep and strained as before, my name on the tip of his tongue. When I didn't answer him directly, facing the wall in front of me. Smiling to myself I waited just a bit longer, savouring the moment before I looked back at him, standing up to close my fly and the button, combing through my hair with my fingers.

"Just take it, will you?"

Still breathing in an uneven pattern, I watched him walking towards his closet and taking off his jeans before grabbing a pair of dark blue joggers.

I got a full view on all the flannels he owned and couldn't suppress an amused sound to leave my lips before I quickly turned it into a cough. Niall turned around nonetheless, sliding the fabric over his toned legs.

"What's wrong?"

At first I shook my head but then chuckled again. I covered my mouth yet it didn't help. Maybe it was because of the rush of energy in my body. Or residues of embarrassment.

"You do have an obsession with flannels. Tell me, do you have checkered Pyjamas or...?"

Niall said nothing, only opening the buttons of his shirt one by one, revealing a white shirt underneath it.

The way it hugged his rib cage made me go quiet while he threw the flannel he wore into a basket next to his closet, closing it after he pulled something out.

I never thought he was the type to wear such a relaxing outfit and looking so fine in it. Everything he wore, even if it were a pair of plain joggers and a white shirt, he made it look expensive on him. How?

He still didn't say anything, only coming closer. It was my time to stand up and take a step towards him, as he waited, arms

crossed.

"A bit cheeky for someone who was just panting my name and begging me to let them cum minutes ago." He spoke, face stoic and one eyebrow raised. I knew he liked to keep this though composure, to be prepared for everything and knowing everything. But what would it take to make him crumble?

Let Me Adore You (N.H.)Waar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu