CONQUEST • Negan

Pose

His eyes practically burst from their sockets, gaze snapping onto my tits like they were godamn magnets. I wasn't a woman who had ever been insecure of her body, I had nothing to be insecure about. I was hot, simple as that, but Negan's attention made me feel like the surface of the damn sun.

My skin prickled beneath his scrutiny. I felt his stare as if it were a physical caress along my flesh, intrusive yet gentle, and I was quickly realising that this probably wasn't the right move to make to get the jump on this prick.

"Fuck, Dice." He breathed, his tongue darting out to slowly run along his bottom lip, "You better come here and sit your ass down before I come to you and do something that might ruin this friendship we're tryna' build. You are seriously testing my self control right now, Sweetheart, and I am desperately trying not to disappoint you."

His gaze was hooded and filled with a heat so warm it made my insides melt. What the fuck was happening to me? Negan was just looking at me, nothing more, and my legs were turning to jelly, my breaths coming faster than before. Get a fucking grip, Marlow, quit acting like a horny teenager. Just his plain, heavy attention on my breasts could rival the butterflies brought on from that smutty book I read last night.

God, I needed to get laid, soon. That's what it was. That's the reason why I was practically frothing at the mouth. I just needed to have sex, or to go touch some grass. One or the other.

I threw my shoulders back, refusing to let Negan win this silent game between us and moved to take my seat in the chair.

"Good girl."

Fucking kill me now. Or maybe just hold an exorcism for me.

He had to be messing with me because there was absolutely no need for him to say that the way he did. Low and sensually. I wouldn't let him see the way he was affecting me, I just wouldn't. I was better than that, stronger than that.

But then he ran his calloused fingertips against the nape of my neck, slowly hooking my blonde hair over my shoulder and away from the dressings. My skin, of course, erupted in goosebumps, because my body was traitorous to my own self will, eyes falling shut without command. When was the last time someone actually touched me? Touched me like this? Gently and without the intention of causing pain or mending wounds.

"Hurry up, Asshole." I gritted out, just needing this to be done.

"Nah, I think I'm gonna take my time with ya', Dice."  Negan crooned.

His hand continued its trail, gently tracing the hollow of my collarbone and then suddenly, my breath hitched as Negan cupped his hand around the front of my throat, squeezing gently and easing me back into him.

He brought his face down close to my ear, my lungs working overtime to keep up with the— it wasn't panic— shit, why wasn't I panicking? That was the appropriate response to having someone grab your fucking neck yet— no, I wasn't panicking at all— I was— my heart was hammering in excitement. Why the fuck was I excited? Why wasn't my damn body doing what my mind was telling it to and clocking this fucker in the jaw? Why wasn't that switch in my brain flipping, the one time I needed it to? That red, hot, feral fury? Where was it when I finally chose to call on it?

"Dice, I really wanna kiss you." He breathed into my ear, my flesh flairing pink. By instinct, I darted my tongue out to wet my lips. "Do you want to kiss me too, Baby? Tell me you do. Please, tell me to kiss you. Fuck, I've wanted to taste those sweet, pink lips of yours since the day I first saw ya'." Negan practically whined in my ear.

"N-no, I don't want to kiss you." I croaked out weakly. I didn't. I promise, I didn't.

"You don't sound too sure about that, darlin'."