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Chapter Eight: Tattoo

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A/N: Smut in this chapter 

If you want to skip it, I will write in bold when the smut is over so you can read the rest of the chapter from there!

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Axel was inches away from me, as we stood in the living room, the warmth of his huge body clouding over me and trapping me into him. He leaned down to my face and I thought, we're finally about to kiss. For the first time in years, in 5 long years, he was going to reach down and kiss my face, finally. 

But he just stopped at my mouth, our bodies still not connected in any way. I was about to bring my hands up and just grab his face to press our lips together already, but he moved his face away from me. 

"What the fuck?" I looked up at him with my eyes glossy and I was just absolutely drunk, dying for him and his touch. 

"What Iwasguna say before," He slurred, "About the way you look at me."

My breath hitched, and I didn't want him to finish that sentence. Because I know he was about to say something crazy, and intimate. He'd say something, like how I'm entrancing, or how the word beautiful isn't enough to describe me. He'll say that, and not know just what it does to me. How it makes me feel. 

I just didn't need another set of empty words that were going to make me never be able to forget about him. And so I shook my head, "No. No words right now," I said, stepping close towards him again, and wrapping my arms around his neck. I stood on the tips of my toes, and brought my lips to his ear. He bent down, pulling his hands up and resting them softly on my waist. 

I felt sparks at his touch. 

"Right now," I whispered straight into his ear, and I know he could feel my breath against his neck because he shuddered just a bit as I spoke, "I want you to fuck me. As if you've never touched me before."

And I think that was enough to get him going, because immediately his soft touch on my hips became tight, and hard. I pulled my head back from his ear. Looking at his face, my eyes fell down to the tiny scar on his right cheek. I bit my lip.

He instantly kissed me. I felt a loss of breath as he kissed me so deeply. 

And I found the answer to my question-- his kiss feels familiar. 

I kissed him back, and in seconds our make-out became sloppier and heavier and wetter.

His tongue was everywhere in my mouth, and we both just tasted like burning alcohol and chalky weed, mixed together in the moistness of our saliva. And something about it was making me so incredibly desperate for more. I moved my hands up to the back of his head, throwing off the baseball cap he had on, eager to touch his hair. 

I ran my fingers through his scalp and he was about to moan, I could tell, but he remained silent. I kissed him harder, gripping his hair tight firm, but he still made no sound at all. I was about to try again, until his hands moved down to my ass and grabbed it so tight I was about to tell him that it hurt too bad. But he knew that to me, it hurt too good. 

"Mmmgn," I moaned into his mouth, and he pressed his hips against mine. I could feel his boner growing through his pants by the second, and my underwear was getting so wet I think it had started to drip into my jeans. I pulled at his sweatshirt harshly, "I need this," I mumbled against his lips, gasping for breaths, "Off. I need this off," I struggled to speak, and he instantly took his shirt off, leaving the upper half of his body absolutely bare. My eyes widened.