Love, Life, And Lies- Regulus Black

.books and buttons.

.two broken souls scarred with the wounds from their demons, playing a dangerous game of trust and love.

He slammed his lips against mine with earth shattering force. And somewhere far away, galaxies exploded from the heat and the passion with which he kissed me.

His hands slid down my thighs, hitching them up until they were wrapped around his torso. The strength of his body supporting my weight. Then as if he really had known what I was thinking about before, he slammed me against the bookshelf, the spines of the books digging into my back, just as I had imagined. He kissed me heatedly, his hands roaming everywhere except the places I really wanted him to touch.

His passion was like a hurricane. Like the swirling and surging of the intense waters. And with the feel of his warm lips against the tender skin of my neck, all of my control was completely obliterated. Every part of him swept me off my feet and carried me out to sea, and I went willingly, not fighting the riptide current sweeping me away.

My hands tangled into his hair, gripping the dark strands tightly. His gaze was dark and heavy as he raised his eyes to mine. In them I could see the eye of the hurricane, a moment of clarity amid the intensity of the storm that had swirled around us.

And in that moment of clear skies and serenity, I knew that I wanted him more than I'd ever wanted anything else. I wanted him in every way a person could have another.

And as quick as the eye of the hurricane had come upon us, it was gone. And the intensity and the heat, and the torrential downpour of passion was back.

My hands trailed across his shoulders, feeling the corded muscle beneath his shirt. Then trailed down his chest, to his abdomen where I could feel the rippling sculpture-like figure. My breath caught in my chest, and I couldn't get any air out or in. I was stuck in the moment admiring the feel of him against me. And nothing else mattered, not even the air I needed to sustain my own life. It was nothing compared to the feel of his body against mine. Utterly and completely inconsequential.

It wasn't fair for anyone to look like him. Like Adonis reincarnated. Like a literal god walking the earth with us mere mortals. I stopped trailing my hands over him, and started on the buttons of his shirt. My hands were shaking, and I couldn't still them. There was too much fire, too much adrenaline in my veins. My eyes lazily trailed up to meet his, and the heated storms fueled the already burning need that I had for him. Frustrated with how long it took my shaking hands to unbutton the ridiculous buttons, I gave up and ripped the rest of them open.

My hands were on his torso in a second. Exploring every inch of the skin I had wondered about for so long. He was a marbled masterpiece. All pale flesh that contrasted exquisitely with the dark, silken curls falling onto his forehead.

I pulled the lapels of his shirt, roughly slamming his lips against mine again. His tongue slid into my mouth, just as I wrapped my legs around his waist even tighter, pulling him closer to me. So close that the only thing separating us were the layers of clothing we wore.

Despite that, I could feel every hardened inch of him. He groaned into my mouth, his fingers latching onto the sides of my thighs. Fingers that gripped me tightly, holding me flush against him.

I couldn't believe what was happening. We had never gone so far before. He had always stopped us before anything could happen. But I wanted this. I wanted it with him, regardless of whatever silly delusions he entertained about what it meant to be a proper gentleman.

His hands trailed up my thighs. Burning, burning, burning. Hands that were so strong and so skilled that I couldn't help but wonder what they would feel like in other places.