Reliant ~ [John Soap MacTavish]

LVIII. Composure

John 'Soap' MacTavish ~ 01:17

The door burst open, and I immediately push her back against the wall. Her hands are all over me, her fingers tugging me closer and closer all the while my tongue is exploring hers.

She tastes sweet. Like honeyed strawberries, like the mint she just took on our way back to my place. She tastes like something I can never get enough of.

With my arms wrapped around her waist, I kick the door closed behind us. But she refuses to let go of me, to let our mouths separate. The door closes with a muffled thud, and I feel her body melt further into mine. Every inch of her presses against me, demanding more, and more, and more.

My hands wander instinctively, fingers tracing the curve of her spine, pulling her closer still, if that's even possible. The warmth of her skin seeps through the thin fabric of her clothes, and I can feel the rapid beat of her heart against my chest.

Her lips part slightly, a gasp, a plea—it's all tangled up in the heat of the moment. I tighten my grip on her waist, lifting her just enough so her feet barely touch the floor. She wraps her legs around me without hesitation, and I push her back up to the nearest wall.

The force of it causes a groan to rumble from my throat. She smiles against me in response, like she's happy to hear the sounds she's pulling from me.

But I pull back slightly, because I can't resist to see her.

The dim light of the room casts shadows across her face, and for a brief second, I pause, gazing into her eyes—dark, hungry. Her nails rake down my back, urging me to move, to keep going, but I wait.

"Come on, Johnny," She taunts. "Trying to get me all hot and bothered?"

I can't help but smile, "Why? Is it working?"

"Shut up," she laughs shortly, before her head falls to the nape of my neck. "I can do that too, you know?" she says, her breath tickling my skin.

"Oh, I know," I say as my hand slides to the back of her head, fingers weaving through her hair until they're close to her scalp. Slowly, I grip tighter, then tug her head back with just enough force to leave her breathless. Her lips part as a gasp escapes, but I lean in, my voice low. "—But that's not what we're doing tonight. Maybe another time."

I tilt her head to the side, and this time my mouth finds her neck, tasting the salty-sweet mix of her skin. She arches into me, her breath hitching as I graze her pulse with my teeth just to see her reaction.

Still holding her up, I move us over to the small dresser right next to the front door. Some things fall over when I set her down, but I'm too focused on how she tastes to care.

She lets out a soft moan as I press her against the dresser even further, her body responding to every touch. My lips travel along the curve of her neck, trailing kisses up to her jawline. I pause for a moment, catching her eyes again.

Her chest rises and falls rapidly, her fingers digging into my shoulders like she's holding on for control. "You're so damn frustrating," she breathes, her voice sharp but laced with amusement. The faint smirk tugging at her lips betrays her. "It's a good thing you're so fucking hot, or I'd be done with you by now."

I pull back slightly, the corner of my mouth raised. "Liar."

She raises her brows in a challenging way, like she wasn't expecting me to call her out on her bullshit. "And yet you're still here, aren't you?" She says in her usual bratty tone.

I bite down on my own teeth, the muscle in my jaw twitching when I notice what she's trying to do. Running my tongue over my teeth, I think of how to deal with her properly.