Beatles Imagines

40. Paul

kinda mature content

I laid with him in bed, our bodies haphazardly strewn about. My limbs felt numb with fatigue, but I refused to close my eyes and miss the beautiful man which laid before me. His beautiful chestnut hair was tossed about on his head carelessly; frizzy tufts of his locks sprang straight up as if they were trying to greet the warm sun which peeled through the curtains and fell upon his face. I noted his eyelashes were particularly long that day; a physical trait I was jealous of. His brown eyes were illuminated with specks of gold and almost amber as the light shone down on them brilliantly, and it were those eyes that stared at me so intensely that not even the sun on my face could match the heat rising onto my cheeks.

"I can't believe you're real." He announced suddenly, his voice still raspy from deep sleep. His arms slithered from their sides and he faced his open palms towards me. I touched the tip of my palms with his, and felt the heat that radiated off of them.

"Your hands are so small." He mumbled with a smile as he intertwined his fingers with mine. "So tiny."

"Perhaps your hands are abnormally large."

"Perhaps." He replied.

"But even if they were abnormally large, I doubt you would find them troublesome." He raised an eyebrow at me before his face broke out into a smug grin.

"You're perverted."

"You love it." He untwined our fingers and put his hands on my lower back, and in one swift movement pulled my body closer to his.

"I'm not sure about that." I raised my 'tiny' hand and swept a loose strand across his forehead.

"Oh you're not?" He teased.

I shook my head in defiance.

"So you don't like," He trailed off, a look of lust and amusement clouded his eyes.

He moved his hands from my lower back to underneath my breast. His thumb grazed over my nipple, and it involuntarily became hardened beneath his fiery touch. A tingle ran down my spine at the feeling.

"This?"

"No."

After he took notice of my reaction, he lightly flicked the sensitive spot with his forefinger and thumb. He leaned his head down and let out a small puff of air on my nipple, and I shivered in anticipation of what would come next. My back arched slightly, wanting his fingers on me once again.

His mouth then engulfed the raised skin, his tongue moved agonizingly slow over the area, and I moved my fingers into his hair as he pleasured me at an almost torturous rate. Suddenly, his mouth suddenly engulfed my other nipple, and I let out a small whimper. His warm hands started to trail downwards, and a familiar heat started to build up inside of me as he moved them lower and lower. He cupped my heat with his large hand, and moved his fingers only slightly to move my undergarment aside.

But just like that, his hands moved off of me and his head popped back up on the pillows once again. His smug smile remained once again, and grew even bigger to see my resolve fading.

"What about that?"

"No." I barely managed to speak out.

"What a shame. If you were to tell me you enjoyed it, I would've continued." He cocked his head at me.

"You're not a very nice man."

"How am I to be nice when you say I'm perverted?"

"Can you not be both?" I inquired.

"I'm not sure it works like that."