Burns

26.

☆☆Brecley:

I couldn't believe I had gone ahead with the dare. But then again, it was just a dare. Right?

I've asked myself that question over and over again which was stupid because I wasn't even supposed to be asking that. But somewhere along the lines of his blank stare with darkened eyes, head tipped back, silent groan and raging erection that happened to twitch underneath my ass, I found myself harboring such thoughts.

He wasn't supposed to be hard, right? Right?

I concealed my stupidity and warded away the unpleasant and quite unprogressive thoughts with a common logic; Kylo was a male. No matter how gentle and reserved, respectful and prioritized he was, he was still a male. In the face of such a provocative action, it was only natural that his member stood erect and a groan of pleasure slipped. 

I hadn't expected I'd have had the courage to lap-dance him. The last time I performed a lap-dance, I hated it because it made me feel like a whore. But with Kylo it was different. He made me feel seductive, like a queen luring her king. He had this dangerous calmness that surrounded him, and his expressions rarely betrayed his thoughts. His eyes were usually blank or cold, nothing emotional about it apart from the few moments he had been with me and conflict poked its ugly head.

His ability to remain calm and not touch me, yet feel pleasure, stunned me. The way he had casually draped his arms on the arm-rest of the chair and drank from his can of beer which he never bothered attempting till I had begun with him, brought a gangster to mind. He was calm and calculated, unable to be read and that truly was dangerous. 

I gnawed on my bottom lip while stealing glances at him. He wasn't hunched over with an arm hanging casually from his knee while the other brought the can of beer to his lips, anymore. He was now slouched into his seat, the can of beer hanging from his hand. His eyes lazily blinked at the surroundings and I didn't need to be told that he was least interested in whatever was now going on. He was slowly darting his eyes around, fluttering his lashes, while lost in his own world.

What was he thinking? A question I've asked myself more times than I could think since I met him. I wondered if he was enjoying his stay; after all, I had promised him a vacation worth his while. Was it worth his while so far? I had no clue. Did I have other activities restricted strictly to both of us? Yes I did. Was it going to be enjoyable for him? I had no clue but I hoped it would.

His gaze met mine and like a deer caught in the headlights, I stared back, nervously frozen for a few seconds before breaking out of the mini trance and lowering my head as a wicked blush crept up my cheeks.

I randomly remembered how I had taken the pains of trailing video after video on YouTube, concerning how to bake cupcakes. It wasn't easy, especially for me since I knew zilch in cooking except for minor tasks, but I pulled it off. I was a nervous mess when I had offered him the cupcakes at first, silently hoping that it would be to his liking. And when he had affirmed liking the cake, I became a blushing schoolgirl who was suffering a severe case of 'butterfly garden in the stomach'; in order words, I became a wobbly mess.

The way his fingers had brushed against my skin feather-lightly, haunted my memory. How he had backed me to the car and teased me. I had melted into an aroused mess, wetness stained my panties, leaving me a prisoner to the want that pooled in between my legs, making me ache with need for him. Just when it was getting intense, the sexual tension tainting the atmosphere, he pulled away like a switch had just been pulled in his head. I had wondered if he had a personality disorder but I decided against it. He was him, who he was. And who he was was the man I craved. As sadistic as it was, it was true. I had no idea if I was making sense to myself honestly.