15 - wet

29.5K 641 1.2K
                                    

^I-
Just remember I warned you. ;)
————
Elise Halder
————

I consider myself to be a good girl.

I make good decisions, I rationalize outcomes, I do what I'm told, and I'm not too much of a rule breaker. Sure, I have my off-days, we all do. It's the balance that comes with being imperfect humans, I get that, but it doesn't mean I don't try my best to keep those days to a minimum. And I pride myself in that, I do, because I want nothing more than to be considered wholeheartedly good.

But at this moment, the devil on my shoulder is testing me, taunting me to change my ways, battling with her opposite.

And the angel on the other side is losing. Badly.

She's weak and she's losing her hold on my conscience. Because right now, in this moment, I just want to be bad.

But it's a different kind of bad. It's the kind of bad that contradicts exactly what the word is supposed to mean. Because in a way, succumbing to the lust that burns in the pit of my stomach will still make me good.

It'll make me a good girl for Luke.

And that's all that really matters.

Those are the thoughts that run rapidly through my foggy brain when Luke practically drags me down the short hallway to his apartment, fumbling quite angrily with his keys in an effort to unlock the door in a haste.

I watch him in awe, trembling slightly as I take in his clenched jaw and angered stature. The muscles in his arms are straining against the pushed up fabric of his button down and I have to physically remind my brain to tell my legs to keep themselves from buckling.

I don't get much time to continue gawking at the angry mess of a man, because in one harsh movement the keys are finally inserted and the door is ripped open with the same strong arm. He doesn't waste a second to tug my hand to bring me harshly inside with him, and I'm only a little surprised when he backs me up to press me against the other side of the closed door.

"Fucking hell," He rasps before closing the minuscule gap between us, lips moving feverishly against my own. I respond right away because I've been waiting for this contact for far too long. I needed it.

I do, however, gasp into his mouth when his large hands slide down from their position at my waist down to my hips to pull me even closer to his firm body. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue along my parted lips before delving inside, tasting every corner of my mouth.

The feeling is so intense that I have to grip the material of his partially undone shirt, right under where my hands are positioned on his upper chest.

God, I just want his shirt off.

I'm considering throwing all caution to the wind to just rip the last few buttons open, but his hands move to grip my wrists quickly, stopping me. I almost stop the kiss to question him when he tugs them gently to slide up his chest and around his neck, to which I immediately comply and rake my fingers slightly through the tousled curls at the back.

I smile slightly into the kiss because I love this man's hair. And I think he loves when I grab it just as much.

He takes me by surprise when he removes his lips from mine roughly to dip his head down to the side of my neck and I let out a deep breath at the feeling of his moistened lips on the tender area. His hands travel further down to the backs of my thighs where he presses me further into the door, making my entire backside stand flush against the wooden material.

university | lrhWhere stories live. Discover now