Dried and Dying Roses (BWWM)

Forty Eight: Such a Way With Words

Forty Eight: Such a Way With Words

His hand fell from her cheek, which he was caressing lightly, sliding down along the way, and cupping her neck, then down her side, before landing on her hips, squeezing roughly in that way Isa loved.

As she tipped her head tipped back and her mouth fell open, Isa could only be glad that Adrian had gotten off of work early.

 Deciding to take an extended break, Isaline had been starving and had raced home to dive into the large Tupperware container of spaghetti she had forgotten to bring with her.

Upon pulling into the driveway, Isa had seen her man's motorcycle, and could easily pinpoint his scent, but upon going inside she couldn't find him, that is until a grunt had sounded from beneath her. Following Adrian's scent, Isaline had found him in the basement, lying on a bench, pressing what she was positive was more than her weight. Everything was flexing.

Everything.

His calves, his abdomen, those fucking arms, his neck. Holy hell.

I've either peed myself for the first time since I was four, or he just made me wetter than I've ever been  just by looking at his sweaty body with all those muscles bulging.

Isa hadn't known she had said that aloud until she watched, mesmerized as those sexy arms of his stated to shake before he let the bar crash back into the cradles on each side of the bench while loud guffaws fell from Adrian's lips.

He laughed for a good five minutes before finally sitting up and using his telekinetic power to drag Isaline forward until she was standing between his parted legs, "You're a funny little thing, you know that?"

Isa let out a groan as Adrian pressed his lips to her nose before sitting back down, "I said that out loud or were you digging around in my head?"

"You said it out loud," Adrian murmured as he pulled Isaline down onto his lap, "Did you get off early?"

"No. I came back for my lunch. Did you?" Isa asked as she straddled his lap.

He nodded, but was no longer making eye contact with Isaline, her attire for the day having distracted him. After the whole skirt-with-the-elastic-and-paperclip incident that had resulted in Isa crying like the baby she was pregnant with, Adrian had taken her out that Saturday, and they had done a lot of shopping for bras, maternity shirts, dresses, and bottoms, underwear, and even some swimwear.

She had on a burgundy V-neck dress shirt on, exposing just enough of the tops of her dress to be considered appropriate, and pair of maternity khaki pants, finished off with a pair of ballet flats that matched her shirt, and Adrian definitely approved of the ensemble, letting out a low groan as he buried his face in Isaline's chest, mumbling lowly something that she couldn't catch but was sure wasn't apt.

As Adrian's lips and tongue re-familiarized themselves with her soft skin, Isa let out a quiet sigh, burying her hands in his long hair, "Adrian don't put anymore marks on me. I have to go back to the store,"

She tried to speak austerely, but her voice cracked as his thumb brushed across the most responsive mark on her body; the one on her neck, "A-Adrian,"

"Okay, okay, I'll stop," He chuckled, resting his hands on her hips.

"I have to go," She breathed, even as her lips chased his.

Amused, Adrian let out a deep chuckle, removing his grip from her person, "Then go baby, before I fuck up your schedule, and fuck you on this bench,"

She could keep the leer on her face, and subsequently, Adrian was the one to pull away, standing up, and placing Isa on her feet.

She could do nothing but stare as Adrian pulled on a white, sleeveless t-shirt, her eyes already beginning the trek down his body as she undressed him quite eagerly with just those grey orbs of hers.