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ETTA ♛
Even whilst sat, Luke towered above her. The man was a physical embodiment of intimidating and he was barely even trying. With his legs spread before her, body lazily reclined against the back of the sofa, and hand smoothing over the edges of his jaw every so often, the man looked like he was poised on his own throne, gazing down at Etta like she was merely just one of his subjects.
It should not have turned her on as much as it did.
"Are you gonna sit there all day? Or are you going to listen?" He mused after a couple moments of silence, and Etta chewed on her bottom lip instead of answering—a nervous habit—but it only spurred Luke on more. He leant forwards, hand stretching out to clutch underneath her jaw, and her entire body froze as he angled her head upwards.
"Do I need to repeat myself? Or did you just not understand me?"
Still, Etta remained stuck, eyes flickering between his face and the evident arousal straining against his joggers. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips, and Luke's eyes narrowed with a hint of frustration, tutting quietly as he removed his hand from her and quickly unknotted the tie of his joggers.
Then, he was reaching forwards once more, clasping on to Etta's wrists as he bought them up to the waistband and wrapped her fingers around it. "Do I have to do everything by myself?" He mocked her, voice deep and thick with a rasp that succeeded in raising goosebumps over every inch of her skin.
