Reliant ~ [John Soap MacTavish]

XXXIV. The Belt

"You're killing me," he hums, his hot breath tickling my skin as I grab his belt to bring it behind his back.

"I know."

Keeping my eyes on his, I loop the belt into its buckle to create two holes for his hands. After slipping it around his wrists, I work on tightening the whole thing just enough for him not to be able to escape.

I feel my cheek tighten as I can't suppress another smile. Looking down at him gives me a rush of adrenaline like nothing ever has. "Does that hurt?"

"No," he breathes, his voice turning lower.

Quickly, I pull the edge of the belt just an inch tighter. "And now?"

"Fuck," he inhales. "A little."

"Good."

He lets out a breathy laugh, clearly not expecting that last part. I can tell he wants to say something, yet he doesn't.

"You aren't nervous, are you, Johnny?" I ask, pushing my thighs apart just a bit further to feel him press against me, still straddling him.

"—No," he grunts, his lips still parted and the insides of his brows still raised. "Maybe."

I reach up, letting my fingers run along his jawline before kissing him once more. "Don't be," I breathe in between kisses. "Say the word and I'll stop. I won't hurt you. I promise."

I roll my hips against him, still keeping the same amount of pressure on him.

"Fuck," he hisses, his head falling forward against my chest. "God, Alex. Please."

"Please what?" I hum, stopping my movement.

"Hurry," he says, a moan coming out with the words. "You're driving me crazy."

Grinning, I slowly push myself off of him. As I stand up, I push his shoulder softly, finally allowing him to let his back his the couch too. I keep my position between his thighs, not allowing him to close them as I push his legs apart even further.

I waste no time tugging at the bottom of my shirt, locking my eyes onto his as I remove the layer of fabric off of my frame. And even though his mouth was slightly parted just moments ago, his mouth is now completely shut. His teeth are clamped together, eyes focused on me as a muscle twitches in his jaw.

I could stop here, leaving me standing in my pants and a black bra. But where's the fun in that?

The moment I reach for the back of my bra, fingers finding the clasp, his jaw loosens again. The subtle movement is like a reward, as he clearly expected me to stop just there.

I let the moment play out just a little bit longer, and the way his brows twitch tells me he hates me for it. He adjusts his hips slightly, clearly needing release from the way his jeans have tightened around him even further.

What a sight.

My fingers work to open the clasp, and only a second later, the last item covering my chest falls to the floor.

"Oh my fuck—," Soap mutters, biting down on the inside of his cheek and looking up at the ceiling.

"Something wrong, Johnny?" I ask teasingly, slowly dropping down onto my knees with two hands planted on his thighs.

"No. No—thing," his breath hitches as my hand moves to the inside of his thigh, creeping closer to where he needs more attention. "God."

"Look at me," I say, keeping my tome somewhat demanding.