"To be the woman I know you can be."
It causes a nervous chuckle to escape your begging lips. Hips shift against the cushion, fingers laced together between those closed thighs that he held the key to.
"You want me?"
A question asked innocently, as if your core wasn't on the brink of oozing for him. Like lava simmering under the earths crust, his touch was the very thing building the pressure.
König's lids lowered with impatience, he disliked your need to over analyze, partly because he struggled to read you—and you so effortlessly see through him. But what is it that you see now?
Now that he has given a portion of himself to you.
"Do you want me?"
He repeated in a gentle tone his accent prominent—an attempt to smooth you over—it works with your features softening. The faucet still flows, even with the handle tightening. His shoulders roll, head tilt, eyes absorbing you when they finally meet.
"Yes."
A racing heart and a flat tone gives him his answer. Even with brewing worry, he sees you in that gaze he holds. He leaves you wanting more, his touch not enough, you need him to claw his way into your depths.
Like a mad man digging a grave for his victim, only 6 feet of soil would never suffice for the desire that continues to fester.
You needed him in close proximity where sweats conjoin and fluids combine into a toxic potion you'll convince yourself is love. It makes you lift from your seat, reaching—a hand placed on his chiseled face.
"Ich gehöre dir Schatz."
"I am yours."
He leans into it—his fingers rubbing the hem of your shirt and when you lean for a kiss he pulls away. Ripping his attention, leaving you astray. Like a bear playing with his food before it feasts, it leaves you feeling rejected, confused—it's exactly what he wants.
For you to be unsure of yourself when the time comes to remind you of who he really is. Why he's there in the first place.
A mind full of instability, fully capable of manipulating any situation in his favor and you've played right into it. Now you yearn for him, this version he has presented.
"You give in only to pull away... why is that?"
You make pace to step in front of him, gripping his stubble so that he has no choice but to look into your damp sandy eyes and for a moment he's captivated. Your eagerness to always find a meaning in everything he does instead of writing it off as pure insanity.
He grips your hand from his face and laces his fingers between yours, his hand is warm, palms soft as feathers. The tips of his fingers resting gently along your knuckles, index rubbing the silkiness of your skin.
"You said it was inappropriate."
His eyes left your hand to gazed into your eyes, head tilted slightly as if to be asking rather than stating. He brought the back side of your hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss.
One you wished was planted on your lips instead. He watches on as lips part and breathes begin to gain force. You choke out a response, intrigued with the way he ignites every nerve in your body with simplicity.
A gentle caress of his fingers to your cheek, his thumb grazing the skin of your lips making them part to show bottom teeth.
"Because it is.."
You choked out stepping out of this vacuum of debris. A moment of clarity is needed, your hands flattening the wrinkles of your blouse only for his hands to knock yours away.
"If it is so..."
His fingers pinched the button of your blouse, his sky eyes locked with yours as he began to undo each button.
"Inappropriate."
The first.
"Then stop me."
The second.
He leans closer, lips just inches away, breath hot along your lips. Igniting that flame once more only it runs rampant at the subtle touches of his knuckles against your skin.
"Stop me."
Third.
It exposes white lace underneath, breast full threatening to spill over. The cool air that breezes over your heated skin sends chills down your spine. Your throat engages trying to swallow the tension that continues to develop.
The fourth..
only one more and your blouse will glide off your shoulders and onto the floor. His lips move from yours purposefully letting them graze against your skin until they reach the point where your ear and neck meet.
"You need me..."
The fifth.
And your blouse slides off you and pools to your heels. His hands engulfing your breast with a gentle squeeze, it makes your head tilt. Your mind blank with each phrase spoken from his pretty lips.
"Die dinge, die ich für such deplane habe, meine liebe.."
"The things I have planned for you, my love.."
His lips wrap your skin, pull your flesh into his mouth and he waits until your breathing is so rapid and your hips grind so deliciously against his growing length that he almost decides to take you now.
Spread you so far open, there would be no need for adjustment. Your walls would just collapse into the shape of his cock. Like a bag being sealed air tight with him inside.
He reached into his back pocket, his teeth grazing your damp skin, your moans making him crumble. He pulls a white cloth and pushes it to your mouth. Your eyes widen, initial panic settling and setting up camp until your eyes feel heavy and you can no longer hold yourself up.
