Damned Royalty

Chapter 11

His lips found yours. Your hips found his lap. His hands found your flesh.

You made out – slow and languid – giving Jimin a little break and you a little attention you deserved. His palms dragged across your ass and thighs while your nails scraped across his back. You could feel the ripples of his muscles beneath your fingertips, and you wanted to commit each one to memory.

He moved his palms up your sides, over your belly - admiring your skin as if it were a piece of fine silk. He then moved north, cupping your breast in his fist and lifting it against your chest. The tips of his fingers slipped over the lace and began to dance across your nipple.

"Mmm," you moaned as he circled and pulled it to attention. He pulled the lace down, spilling your breast over the cup, then dipped his head to lave his hot tongue over the stiffened peak. You pursed your lips as he circled the rim and moaned again as he sucked it gingerly between his teeth. You laced your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and stretched your chin to the sky – closing your eyes so you could absorb more of his assault.

"You're sensitive here," he whispered into your nipple. Sucking it once more, he moved across the mound, kissing his way to your other breast. When he got there, he did the same – pulling the fabric down, cupping the flesh in his palm, licking and sucking at the peak.

You brushed your hand through your hair and bit hard on your lower lip. Your hips began to swivel involuntarily against him. You didn't know you could get so aroused by having someone simply play with your tits.

He played there for a while - until he was satisfied, then he nipped his way back up your neck and carved a path along your jawline. He reached both hands around your waist, and you felt his fingers begin to search for the clasp of your bra. He undid it with expert precision, and you felt the confines loosen. Featherlight, but scolding like a piece of hot iron, the pads of his fingers traced over your shoulders and your arms as he pushed the straps off you. He watched attentively as the bra fell and your breasts bounced free. He cupped them in his hands once again and gave them the most sensual of massages – it was like he had never scene or touched a woman's chest before. You arched your back, pressing the mounds into his warm palms.

Then, in one fallow swoop, he scooped his arm around your waist and flipped you over and onto the bed. Your back hit the mattress with a soft "oof," but he was right there again to drink in your lips. You parted yours and let his tongue slip into your mouth. Fuck, you loved how he kissed you. You could have stay like this forever... Your breasts smashed against his chest... his heavy weight pushing you into the mattress... your hands roaming every inch of his skin... his tongue warm in your mouth, folding itself into yours - you whimpered when he pulled his lips away.

He began to move down your body and, once again, his lips, his tongue, his hands explored every inch of you. You pursed and chewed your lips as each press of his mouth was like a shock of pleasure igniting your skin. Your lungs sucked in shallow breaths and your body began to quake in anticipation. Especially when he stopped at the region just above your panties. He decided to take his time there and trace patterns across your skin with his warm, wet tongue. He'd blow a whistle of air over the wetness and your belly would jolt at the sensation. He'd look up at you and smirk each time – satisfied with how you reacted to him.

With a final kiss to your mound, he sat back on his knees, bringing with him your ankle in his grasp. He wrapped his lips around your big toe, and you felt his teeth close over it in a sharp, but quick, bite.

"Ah!" you let out a tiny yelp. Not in pain – more so in shock. You looked up to him – your foot still tight in his grip – and he flashed you a wicked glare. A glare that said I warned you that I bite.