Sweetheart

38

Aaron
November 2020

I blink absently. You're about to get head, she said. Holy shit it's happening.

No. No, I have to be smart. Stay clear. She's still my Lizzie. I have to treat her right. I breathe deeply, trying to calm my growing bulge. Ah, Jesus. "Are you sure?" I force out, hoping that she says fuck yeah.

Lizzie smiles. "Fuck yeah. And I know you've been dreaming about it for the longest time, so..."

I chuckle. "Am I that transparent?"

"Like a piece of glass."

I smirk, watching her as she slowly walks away from me, making me pull my brows together. She stops in front of the door and locks it, throwing me a long look. Oh, yes.

She walks back to me, looking down at my lap, then back up at me. She parts her lips, watching me carefully. I blink. "Is this your first time?" I ask her, looking up at her with dominance. And she's supposed to be the one in charge, right?

Lizzie takes a big gulp of air, and nods. I open my mouth to speak again, but she stops me by lifting her hand in the space between us. "Take your shirt off."

"Why do I have to do it? You have hands, use them," I reply, teasing her.

At first, she starts going for the hem and doing as I said, but suddenly she stops. She folds her arms. "No. I said take your shirt off."

I bite down on my bottom lip, hiding a grin. "I can't take you seriously when you look at me with those puppy eyes, Heart."

She furrows her brows and clenches her jaw, scowling. She leans down, and while I'm still smirking like a fox she grabs my face in her hand and makes me look at her face. Oh, damn. "You wanna joke around or you wanna act? Take that damn shirt off, 'cause I sure as hell won't. It's up to you whether this continues or not, gorgeous. Your choice."

I blink fast, quite shocked by her reaction. Then, I nod. "All right. I'm sorry."

She smiles, proud. "That's better."

My shirt comes off and she's immediately staring at it with hunger. I move my arm to throw the piece of fabric across the room, but she stops me.

"I'm gonna need that," she tells me, taking it from my hands. I stare at her, lost. She walks around me, stopping behind the chair. Lizzie leans down, putting her mouth next to my ear.

When she starts speaking a jolt of awareness shoots between my legs. Her velvet-like voice whispers to me, "Close your eyes for me."

I lick my lip and comply. Soon, the fabric is gently placed over my closed lids, stopping any light from reaching my eyes.

With her mouth still next to my ear, she says, "Good boy." My hands clench around the armrests of the chair.

I hear her moving back in front of me, setting her hands on my thighs. The towel makes some noise against her skin, letting me know that she's kneeling. She's kneeling between my legs, and I can't see her. "Lizzie," I call her through gritted teeth.

"Don't speak," she shuts me up.

I want to reply, but her fingers work their way toward my pants. She takes hold of my belt, quickly unfastening it.

The erection between my legs is starting to hurt, and she's going so goddamn slowly. And I know she's doing it on purpose. She's punishing me for being a crazy asshole who almost killed a guy. Fair enough, enough, I guess.

Her hands unbutton my pants, then slowly zip them down. Without picking up her pace, Lizzie traces the edge of my underwear with her fingertips, teasing me and making me grow harder and harder by the minute.