Amazing writer of this: http://smuttyscribbles.tumblr.com/
The music fills the dark club to the brim, its heavy base thumping like your heartbeat. You let it move through you, let it control the way your body swayed and rolled. Your eyes are closed, your head tipped back as your hands twirl in the air above your head.
Surrounded by bodies, the heat in the club is overwhelming and your skin glistened with sweat because of it. You can feel hands skimming your body, lips moving close to your ears, but you pay them no attention, not letting them distract you from your peace.
Your mind is full of thoughts of him and nothing else. His eyes, his laugh, his kisses. The way his hands felt as they caressed you. A smile curved your mouth and you gave a slow swing of your hips from side to side. You know he's watching you from the bar, can practically feel his gaze burning you from where he's standing with his friends. You move your body to tempt him, but apparently it isn't just him that you are enticing.
A hand comes down on your arse, a hard slap that makes your eyes shoot wide. You know immediately that isn't your boyfriend, because as much as he likes to do that in private, he had never done that in front of others before. You spin around, your eyes falling on the culprit; a slightly older guy with glassy eyes and a wide, wobbly grin. He leans into you, his face and just from yours and spoke, but she can't hear a word over the music. Your hands balled into fists at your sides and you must have a face of thunder because even through his drunken stupor, his expression turns worried when he looks at you.
The alcohol running through your body wasn't helping you keep a lid on your anger. Sure, this wasn't your first experience with the handsy guy while out clubbing, but for some reason, the fact that he had interrupted your tranquillity has royally pissed you off.
You are about to yell, or maybe even slap him, but he scurries off through the mass of people before you can act.
Hands settle on your hips, this time though you know exactly who it is. The size, the heat that leave behind as they slide to your stomach, it was as familiar as home. They pull you back against his hard chest and immediately he buries his head into your neck, plump lips brushing against your skin. He's molded against your back, so close you might as well be one, and his crotch is pressed against the flesh of your arse, grinding hard against you. You feel his body start instantly and pushed back for more.
"Do you know how beautiful you are?" his lips brush against your ear and his arms tight around your waist. You give one shake of your head. "So fucking beautiful. Everyone's looking at you, wanting you." He sucks on the spot beneath your ear that makes you gasp and tilt your head back against his shoulder. "Touching you."
You frown, "They're not." You say, turning your face into his neck.
He nods, his teeth grazing the bare skin of your shoulder. "They are. They're putting their hands all over you. Touching what's mine."
"Calum..." his name falls from your lips as a sigh. One hand slips upwards and cups your ribs, his finger pressing against the underside of your breats.
"And to top it off, that guy goes and slaps your arse." His voice is steely and you know that he's mad, but you can't really tell if it's that you or the intoxicated strangers that you've been to distracted to notice we're touching you. "Did you like that?" he growls, his hips are still moving with yours, drawing you into tight circles. He's making sure you can feel him, making sure you know that rhe hard bulge in his skinny jeans is just for you.
"No." You growl right back, knowing that he was well aware that you hadn't liked it at all. He would have seen your reaction, especially if he had been closer than you thought. "You know I didn't."
