Flowers

15

Camille

My heart was racing and I felt incredibly giddy.

Michael was leading me towards his bedroom, and it was as if I couldn't stop feeling him. I hadn't been content for long just holding his hand and resulted in slipping my hands underneath his shirt from behind.

His skin felt so warm and rippled with a delicious muscle feel.

Smiling widely to myself, I let my hands move past his sides and to his front, trying to keep walking behind him instead of just pushing him against a wall and kissing him again, as I was desperately wanting to.

"What're you so eager for, hm?" I could hear the smile in his low voice, which only made me smile more.

"Oh, nothing..." I mused light-heartedly and leaned my forehead against his back.

I had stopped caring that I barely knew him. The physical pull I felt to him was nearing unbearable, and I craved to be with him. To get relief for these feelings.

Since my birthday party, I couldn't stop myself from fantasising about Michael.

He had clearly known what he was doing, he seemed so experienced. And somehow I liked that a lot.

When we reached his bedroom, I slowly removed my hands off him and took a second to take everything in.

My jaw fell open as my eyes landed on an easel, holding up a half-painted canvas.

The beautiful painting was a pop of life and colour in his otherwise rather bland and dim apartment.

"What?" I wondered aloud, and turned to Michael who was watching me calmly.

He shrugged, "I paint when I'm high."

My brows furrowed, suddenly not knowing how to feel, "you use drugs?"

"Just weed."

"Oh."

He took a step closer in the dim bedroom, his bed just behind him. His dark eyes were carefully studying me, most likely trying to get a glimpse of what I was now thinking.

"It- it looks really amazing..." my voice trailed off the closer he got, all while trying to somehow motion back at the canvas, unable to look away from him.

A dark smirk tugged at the sides of his lips, and my whole body felt hot. His hands brushed against my hips before taking a hold of them.

"You do, too," his hot breath fanned along the side of my face and I shivered pleasurably.

Michael began leaving small and feathery kisses along my cheek, leading down toward my jaw. My hands fumbled a little between our chests, being the only thing preventing his front from pressing against mine.

"Michael," I began, my voice barely above a whisper and slightly shaky, "I know this is fast, but would you like to have—"

"Fuck, yeah," he cut me off with a low groan, half a second before he kissed me.

I pushed back all hesitations, along with my rational mind, into the back of my head, and cupped his jaw to kiss back passionately.

I arched my back to be fully against his hard front, loving how he felt. His hands slid up to my waist, underneath my tee shirt, and his hold tightened, fingers slightly digging into my skin.

"You a virgin, sweetness?" Michael murmured, breaking the intoxicating kiss for a moment.

"I'm not..." I shook my head gently, suddenly beginning to think maybe he wasn't into that. Maybe he gravitated towards me was because he thought I was a virgin? God, I had heard about those kinds of guys, but—

"Good," he chuckled to himself before kissing me again.

Our kiss turned more and more heated when Michael began guiding me to turn around and walk toward the bed.

My whole being felt hot and bothered, soon almost falling down onto the bed with a giggle.

"You sure about this, Camille?" Michael raised his brows at me, standing by my hanging feet, slowly unbuckling his belt.

My smile morphed into an excited and amused grin, "yes, I'm sure. Come here.."

I scooted my body up on his soft bed, giggling again when Michael climbed between my legs and moved to hover over me, his belt now somewhere on the floor.

I cupped his prominent jaw once more and tugged him down to continue our kiss.

"You have condoms, right?" I breathed, a tad nervous now.

Michael pulled back enough to find my eyes with his darkened gaze, and an attractive and knowing smirk tugged at the sides of his lips.

His dark hair looked a mess, but I found it incredibly sexy.

"You came here to get fucked, hm?" He almost teased, low voice sending a pang of arousal to my clenching core.

I squirmed underneath him, wanting nothing more than for him to ease the ache between my thighs. I felt unbearably hot, and his complexion wasn't helping it in the least.

"That wasn't my main goal, to be honest, but now that I'm here and you're so... you know..." I began rambling, only causing him to seem more amused, "'fuck' is such a crude way of saying it, anyway... I don't know..."

Michael's brows raised at me while I grew continuously more needing of him to kiss me again.

"You don't wanna fuck?" He asked so casually, it made me heat up further and blush.

I gently nudged him and tried to hide my smile, "don't be so crude about it, Michael..."

"M'not being crude, sweetness," he gave me a mischievous and dark grin before lowering his intoxicating lips toward my bare neck, "sugarcoating shit just makes it complicated."

I sighed in pleasure when he kissed the sensitive skin there, and decided to let my fingers tangle into his disheveled hair.

"How so?" I breathed out, enjoying his kisses along the side of my neck, growing heavier, more passionate and pleasurable by the second.

The way he was situated between my thighs caused my hips to move up a little in search of relief. He registered this and pressed himself further against me, enabling for me to feel the delicious bulge in his jeans.

I felt him grin again against my skin in between kisses, "girls get ideas. Fucking is good. Noncommittal and neutral, won't make you think I want to marry you."

A surprised laugh left my lips, still very much enjoying the pleasure he was giving me by kissing my neck. My core clenched impossibly when he gently sucked, causing a lovely and warm feeling to wash over my body.

"I don't think you want to marry me, silly..."

He shrugged and pulled back to find my eyes again, discreetly licking over his lips quickly, truly looking like he was hungry for me. Maybe he was. The thought aroused me further.

Michael shrugged, "fucking is no feelings."

"Oh..." my brows furrowed and smile faded, confused by his sudden need to keep this so strictly in his control, "I just... I thought you liked me?"

"Yeah, I do. You just don't seem like the type to sleep around a lot and I don't need you obsessing over me," he gave me a small smile, relaxing me again.

I shook my head with a small giggle, "trust me, you'll be the one obsessing over me when we've done the dirty."

He grinned, pleasantly surprised by my reply, "yeah?"

"Yes," I nodded firmly, feeling all warm and fuzzy with him looking at me in the way he was.

Michael kissed me, wrapping me back in the fantastically beautiful enigma that was him.