The year someone turns 18 they have the opportunity to be injected with a serum that will produce a soulmate mark somewhere on their body. This serum is costly and the procedure to get the injection is not covered by insurance.
A rare illness cropp...
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Yoongi draws me into his own little world when he talks about his craft. It's kind of obvious that he is doing what he loves, and seeing that in him pools all sorts of emotions into me. Respect, adoration, love, but the most prominent is an overwhelming sense of desire that starts in my chest and settles at my core. Before I can fully consult with my brain I find myself saying, "You're kind of sexy when you talk about what you love doing." I find myself peering over at the door, as if my subconscious was reminding me about how he turned the lock on the doorknob once we entered. "Tell me, Yoongi. Did you lock that door with a specific purpose in mind?" I flirtatiously ask.
I admit to myself that I wasn't sure if he did it on purpose or not as I posed the question. I truthfully just wanted to tease him a little bit. Perhaps get him on the same wavelength that my mind is already progressing to. I'm quickly able to conjure up the mental visage of his beautiful alabaster skin unveiled to my eyes. When his dark eyes trail over my face and linger on my lips I'm pretty sure I have coaxed him into my train of thought. When his pink tongue trails over his lip I am even more confident that's the case. "I always lock the door. But, at the moment I am exceptionally thrilled that I thought to lock it." He pauses for a second. "I'm also thankful that my studio happens to be the only one with a built in bathroom too. Because I plan on making a mess of you."
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A mess of me? I can't contain my brief giggle fit. I love how he chooses to contain said giggles himself. His lips press into mine in a flurry of savage sensations, but I in turn reciprocate the untamed attention. Before I fully realize it he lifts me from my seat on the couch and sits down himself, placing me so I am straddling his lap. I can already feel his growing desire through the fabric that separates us and before I can talk myself out of it I grind myself against him. He groans and captures my mouth all over again with the same tenacious mastery. The tingles that evoke all over my body, and unlike last time knowing I just wanted more wasn't enough. I wanted everything.
I can only guess he wants the same, when neither of us give an impression of wanting to prolong the inevitability of the exquisite impression made when our shared nudity pressed up against each other as both of our shirts and my bra are discarded from each other's bodies and pooling on the floor in the blink of an eye. We both reach out to each other. My fingers trailing over his soulmate mark on his chest, and his fingers tracing mine on my ribcage. We both hiss in tandem and grind together in some attempt to relieve ourselves of the heated ache building within us. Yes, I want to feel all the sensations. I find my inner voice rasping in my mind.
