Moonlight Kisses

a new addition

"Beau!" I scold as I flail my hands out blindly in search of his.

He keeps my thighs pinned down on the bed with a sturdy grip between his legs. His hands, that were once tickling the living shit out of me, were now nowhere to be found. Now I've found myself in this predicament. My upper half hanging off the side of the bed in a rigorous attempt to get away from his sneaky fingers and my legs still trapped by his knees on either side of him.

I hate it when his lanky limbs get the upper hand. From there on, I'm practically no match for him. Before I was a decent size. Not really tall or short. But when I met this skyscraper of a man, suddenly I became one of the ants on the ground.

Yet, did that ever stop me from picking playfights with him? Absolutely not.

"Morning," I chirped as I purposely rolled over on top of him. Laying my dead weight completely on him jolted him alert.

Out of sorts from having barely woken up, he mumbled in that deep morning voice I love so much, "What the‒ Oh hey, baby." I rolled around some more, making myself comfortable until my body fit directly on his. His body became my mattress. His chest, my pillow.

I grabbed both of his hands and tossed them over my stomach, flat on my sides. "I ought to fucking kill you for last night, y'know that?" I giggled. It'd brought me to reminisce about all the things we did...coming back to my house, kissing all the way up the stairs...feverishly going at each other...riding his thigh with my heels on like he asked...my hands cuffed to my bed. It was heaven and pure sin all at once. How could that possibly be, I still couldn't grasp it even after a night's passing.

He leaned his head into the crook of my neck and kissed my skin softly. "Thought you liked it that way, Jo? Rough and painful?" He'd taken one of my wrists in his grasp and brought it up for the both of us to look at. It just had to have been the one with the most damage inflicted on it. We scanned the deep purple ring around my small wrist. A bracelet to match the necklace of fingerprints around my throat.

Some fine pieces of jewelry I've collected.

Gently, he set my hand back down, not wanting to inflict even more pain on it. Still, that doesn't distract from the sudden pressure digging into my ass. "Are you..." I'd asked with a sneaky gleam in my eyes, "Are my bruises turning you on?" Flipping myself off him, I come to recognize that, indeed, this dirty motherfucker had a hard on.

My eyes widen, even though I've seen it countless times. Bare, even. At least this time he was wearing basketball shorts but it still didn't cover all that much. He reached his hand out to lift my chin, thus taking my analyzing stare away from his groin and into his eyes.

And fuck do those eyes say a ton about him. When we first started this whole fresh start thing, it was like looking into a brick wall. Giving me nothing to read. Ever since then, that blockade has been coming down little by little, but after last night, I could see right into the depths of him. Not completely, but it was something. Way more than what I'd gotten in the past few days. He was open to me again.

His other pesky hand slides past the hem of my shirt, well...his technically, to come in contact with the black cotton panties I put on last night in a hurry after I was done cleaning myself up. His fingers swipe across my core, feeling for the wet spot over my panties. My eyes widen even more when he applies even the tiniest bit of pressure to my clit.

I know we went a couple rounds last night, but god, I didn't expect to still be sensitive in the morning.

"You're no saint either," he chuckled lowly to himself, "You were staring at those bruises earlier, weren't you?" I took my bottom lip between my teeth and flickered my eyes away to the stuffed teddy bear in the corner of my room staring right at us. I wanted to get up and move it to face elsewhere, but my legs were currently putty so there's that.