Desperate

Who's the Fairest

His lips were pretty.
Soft, red, plump...
Wet...
They reminded me of slices of peach waiting to be tasted.
The feel of them made me intoxicated, the squishy and smooth surface against my finger. He was so beautiful, with eyes so green it was addictive... I couldn't control myself. I wanted nothing more than to press us together, to connect our lips in a way the rest of our bodies seemed to. He was so beautiful, so perfect, and I had him in the palm of my hand. A hand that held onto the face, with a square jaw, still damp from water. He was somewhere between feminine and masculine, eyes that glimmered and shone, yet right now, darkened and hungry. If the eyes are the window to the soul, then A small smile twitched at the corner of his mouth, and I wanted nothing more then to...

No
I couldn't
This is Potter.

I pushed him harder against the wall with both my hands on his hips and bit into his neck. A groan came out of his lips, pleasure, pain, who knows, but he tasted clean, and he tasted good.

My hands began to roam, tracing his arms and body, gripping his arse, trying to forget the thought of his red, swollen lips, begging to be soothed.

I began to kiss down his body, sinking to my knees and sucking, nibbling on his hips. His hands began kneading into my hair, and for the first time, I wished I hadn't put any gel into it. He smelt of soap, just regular boring soap, but it was nice to know he cleaned because of what I am going to do.

I let my mouth ghost over his base, teasing the tight skin, so that when I would take him in it would feel so much better.
His body reacted without thought, bucking closer to me, so I shoved him further into the wall; demanding he accepts my dominance despite my position.
The tip entered my mouth, his body already providing me with a taste of what I want out of him. Swirling my tongue against the most sensitive part of the male body, gave me a sense of power. If I wanted to, I could destroy him with a single clench of my jaw.