Elijah
She tastes like dripping heaven, her lips are unsurprisingly soft, and I'm devouring them. My hands have never felt such beauty in their entire life.
God.
Her skin is angelic. Her hair is graceful, and she is breathtaking.
The noises she makes when I bite her lip gently, oh god I want it to kill me over and over again, until I no longer exist.
I want her to want me as much as I want her.
Only her. This woman is the only one to make me feel this way. The only person on this earth to leave me in submission, with no control over my emotions or words.
My mind is drowning with her.
My body is breathless, but I've never felt so alive in my life, and it hurts. I have an aching for her, I just need her.
My hands discover every inch of her, and her body reacts, so heavenly.
My tongue entranced with hers, as my hands become tangled into her hair.
I need her to intoxicate me with just her.
Somehow, and almost impossible, I bring her closer to me, as my back touches my headboard.
Her body reacts incredibly quickly, eager to be closer to me.
She's infuriatingly perfect.
Her flaws are perfect, her perfections are a universe of delightful bliss.
Nobody compares to her.
The way she talks to me, the way she tries to understand me, the way she touches me, and god are her hands gracefully venomous.
Her hands roam my back as she passionately kisses me, an ocean of hunger drowns us, and we sink willingly.
The pleasure that snakes around me is suffocating, needing to escape and explode throughout me.
I've never felt such hatred for not feeling this way before. Jealousy elopes with me as I think of whoever she's had before.
It's terrifying, I should hate her, like everyone else. I should be alone tonight, with nobody but my thoughts.
But I'm incredibly thankful.
Thankful that I'm in her presence, because I never knew how much I needed it.
An angelic noise escapes her lips once again, breaking my trance and forcing me into a new one.
"Fuck," I whisper, "please don't stop making those noises."
She smiles against my lips, "I have an idea."
My body screams in excitement.
"Anything," I whisper.
She grins, mischievously, "who can turn each other on the most," she challenges, an inch away from my ear.
"I'm afraid you've already won."
"Don't underestimate my abilities. You're not as turned on as I'd like," she admits.
I sigh, "you're going to kill me."
"You'd like it."
I roll my eyes.
She's right. I do. But, she doesn't need to know that.
"Don't deny it, I bet you'd beg me to," she whispers.
I straighten my posture, leaning in closer to her face. "I don't beg. If I want something, I'll get it," I mutter in her ear.
YOU ARE READING
Perfect Flaws
ФэнтезиI lift my hand, holding my pistol to his chest, hovering over his heart. He stares at me, emotions spilling out of him. Emotions I can't decipher. He leans closer, the tip of the barrel pressing into his skin, just above his heart. "Do it," he whisp...
