König x Reader- Bad taste in men

Part 15

Words catch in your throat as König's tongue glides against that spot that carries white hot tingles down your stomach and straight to that other sweet spot between your legs.

"König-.'

You were supposed to be getting ready for your one-year anniversary but König loved to distract you, especially when it rendered you a speechless mess.

Chuckling he makes his voice soft and sweet, simply to tease you. "I'm sorry sweetheart. I just missed you-," his lips peck the junction in between your shoulder and neck, "so, so much. You refuse to come on every single mission with me and we both know I'm nothing, absolutely nothing but a desperate man in love. I can't seem to keep my hands off of you."

"I-I-," his lips latch on to you, sucking and pulling, even biting a bit before he lets go and finds another spot to torture you with.

"I didn't refuse, Price said I wasn't allowed to."

"He only said that because he's your second, overly protective dad and he doesn't like the idea of what we could get up to in a shared tent. Fun-sucking old man."

His teeth clamp down, eliciting a moan from your lips as he continues. If this was a form of torture and König was on the giving end, you were sure he could ask you the secret to world peace and you would do anything to discover the answer and relay it to him.

"Excuses, excuses."

Shifting slightly, he moves his hand in front of your face, dangling two objects from his hand.

Earmuffs and a blindfold.

Doing your best to school you're features you ask, "What are these for?"

Still, König picks up on the slight increase in your heartbeat and the way you had to compel your body not to push back into him.

"I'm more curious to hear what you think they are for."

Your teeth come out to bite down on your bottom lip, shaking your head as you skate under his arms and out of his grasp.

He loved that you loved to test his patience.

Turning to face him, you shrug your shoulder innocently.

"Baby, What did I say about honesty?"

He takes a step forward and you take one back.

God this cat-and-mouse game never got old. You were convinced he had turned you into an adrenaline junkie, the way you craved the excitement that coursed through your body when he chased you.

Letting your hand tap against your lip, you feign innocence, "Hmm, honesty is the best policy?"

He doesn't say anything, stalking toward you until your back hits the wall.

His hand coasts up the skin of your leg, running under your dress to your thigh. "I could always make another part of your body answer me instead. My hands can be very persuasive."

"Can they? I might need a reminder."

His eyebrows raise at your challenge.

"Does the idea of all the things I could do to you with these earmuffs and blindfold make you wet, schone (beautiful).

Confidently, the word, "Nope," comes from your lips.

His face moves closer, his lips ghosting over yours, suddenly stealing some of that confidence. "I'm going to have fun tasting the lies leaving those lips when I have you moaning my name."

Simultaneously and without warning his lips crash into yours, his hand moving under your panties, the evidence of just how much of a liar you are coating his fingers.