Seven

Chapter 81

LILIANNA'S POV

Seven's house has not changed since the last time I was here. The blank white walls, impersonal decor and scent of cleaning solution gives his home such a clinical feeling. I can tell he still uses the house as a glorified bedroom, only using the mansion of a home to shelter himself at night.

Cold rings sting the burning skin of my upper thigh. His lips are slow and testing against mine that I can almost taste his hesitancy. A complete contrast to the way his chest heaves for air and his needy hands wonder my body, urgently ushering me upstairs to his bedroom. It's been a long time since I've been intimate with someone, that last someone was in fact Seven. I'm unusually nervous but can feel the building pulse between my legs for him, the one that is set off only by him. I couldn't imagine being like this with anyone else, only Seven manages to bring out this want for him. The desperation inside of me that burns whenever he is close. Only he manages to get my body to scream for him just with the simplest of touches.

I wonder if it's the same for him. Does he only feel this with me? An awful thought plagues at my mind at the wonder of just how many girls Seven has possibly been with since we've been apart. What did they look like? I bet they were prettier than me. Were there many? How did he fuck them? Did he like it? Did he like them? Did they make him come?

In an attempt to push the insecure thoughts from riddling my mind I press my body into Seven's and kiss him harder. He responds with a groan of pleasure, vibrating from deep in his throat.

Oh how I've missed that sound.

Finally Seven opens his mouth to me, allowing our tongues to gently slide against one another's as his lips lap over mine continuously. I'm only vaguely aware we've made it to his dark aesthetic bedroom when he breaks from our intense kissing to flick on the lights by the bed. He's quick to attach himself back to me, this time he busies his mouth on my neck, sucking at the skin till it marks. My eyes flutter at the pinching feeling his suction creates and then the relief of his soft tongue running over the sensitive area to soothe it. It's the perfect mixture of pain and pleasure on such a small scale but it drives my hormones wild. I can feel the moisture collecting between my legs, hear my pulse behind my ears and endure the heat coursing through my veins following his touch.

My hands feel at the bottom of his t-shirt and begin to tug it upwards. He removes himself from my neck to help me lift the shirt over his head. Seven throws the top to the floor that's covered in many other articles of discarded clothing. I don't have time to contemplate the untidy floor when my eyes catch an object laying on the bedside table that sticks out on the usually empty surface. It's a picture but it's not framed, just a simple, single printed photo resting on the side of his bed. When my eyes properly focus on the image my throat dries and I make a weird almost coughing noise.

Seven pulls his face out from the crook of my neck to look at me in confusion before following my eyes staring down at his photograph.

"Oh shit." He whispers quietly before stepping around me to try grab the photograph. I can make out the image of a females body scantily clad but can't make out any details. Why would Seven have such a picture by his bed?

He moves to grab the picture but I reach for it first so he can't take it away from my intrigued eyes. Seven's cheeks are blotching with a deep blush as I observe the picture in front of him, the familiarity of it taking me by surprise.

"What is this?" I ask, fighting a smile.

"A photograph." Seven answers the easier, obvious side of my question and reaches for the photo but I move it out of his reach. I was right, the photograph is of a women scantily clad, she's wearing a bikini as she lounges on her back in the sun. The women sunbathing, unsuspecting of her photographer is me. It's a photo I don't remember being taken from when we were on the boat in my black bikini he had bought me.