He grins at you, shaking his head slightly. "You know some people might say you're asking for it."
You're not quite sure how long you've been playing this game for. It's a battle of wills. And you have no intention of letting Van win...
Warnings: Th...
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There's something burning in his eyes that makes you squirm. He stops just short of the edge of your underwear and hovers there, biting his bottom lip, waiting...
Is he waiting for your consent? This somewhat surprises you considering how quickly this situation has escalated. You feel the balance of control shift slightly, your confidence returning.
"So... what if I am asking for it?" You look at him wide-eyed.
The air between you both is practically crackling with electricity.
"Ryan!"
The shout echoes from somewhere within the house and Van freezes, annoyance clear on his face. It's his mum calling him.
Just like that the spell is broken. His hands leave your skin and you take your chance to hop down from the windowsill.
"You'd better run along Ryan," you smirk, emphasising the name you know he hates to be addressed by, drawing a sneer from his lips.
You leave him there in the room, making your way downstairs, trying to ignore the pang of disappointment which has settled itself in your gut. You've always told yourself that you wouldn't give in to him and let him have his way, you don't want him to win, but there's a part of you that wonders what it would be like to surrender yourself to him. There's something about the feeling of losing control, even being dominated that sparks a little fire in you.
You busy yourself when you get home, making a snack, tidying your flat, trying to concentrate on your studies, but you can't get Van out of your head. The warm air is thick and cloying, and that night your sleep is restless, you toss and turn and wake up covered in sweat, tangled in the damp sheets, the realisation that you have even dreamt about an encounter with Van irritating you further. Fleeting memories of a dream where his hands are everywhere, his lips searing your skin dance through your head. You push the thoughts from your mind.
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The following days are just as hot and oppressive, you attend your lectures and go about your mundane life, feeling restless. So when Mary phones one morning asking if you can take an extra shift, you don't even think twice before agreeing. You tell yourself that things are tight, you need the money, but you know deep down there is another reason for your eagerness as you get ready for work.
