Your Too Sweet [Konigx Reader] ||UnknownRabbit||

21

"YOU what?!" Dane almost shouted and while she did my finger adjusted the rim of the sunglasses as if I'm unbothered by all of this– I'm not. Hiding my 'well spent' night with a scarf around my neck and a stylish top that is long up to my wrist hiding, perfect in hiding those sweet reddish marks, what he left of me from that night.
"Yes." I nodded simply as the cup of hot coffee touched my lips. The taste blooms instantly at my taste buds, getting rid of that lazy taste, awakening my senses to complete awareness, "Then what." Dane looked so taken aback when I told her what happened. We got lost in passion, the wants in the midst of heat. Konig and I slept together and phew... man, that blew my mind. "Then what?" I echoed. She shuffled at her seat as if she was hearing the juiciest news before the media had a scope with it, her voice had slight tension to what is about to come as if she is bracing herself. With a sigh I also shifted, leaned to the table with a pause, "he was a beast caged all this time" I breathed, and Dane gasped. It wasn't a compliment on my part, I almost thought he would rip me to shreds, and unlike Simon, he was rougher, and I didn't lie. I showered this morning and found a bruise from our activity. Bruise at my shoulder, fingerprints at my waist and ass, and slight reddish mark at my neck and wrist. At this point I was not sure if he did it intentionally or was, he just so uncontrolled, but did I regret it? Not one bit.

"Was he...?" I nod and this time she took a big gulp to her coffee as if in disbelief. "I imagine he would be a gentle type since he is quite a silent person. But they say quiet people tend to be more... Rougher." She explained. I on the other hand, lost in my own head space, I think he had something he was thinking while doing it with me, something like a strangled urge, a heated desire of some sort.

What the fuck are you talking about Y/n, you're not a psychologist to even make an intelligent guess, who knows what the man is thinking, he is always an enigma, hard to read.
What's worse is I encourage him. I told him to continue despite the discomfort– Pleasure of discomfort. We were too consumed by each other to care and made a mess in the living room. We made a mess in the living room. After that...

After that, he left. He left as if everything we did was just out of drunkenness. We weren't. I wasn't.
I wasn't desperate or drunk to my own fear, the emotion that led me to jump to his arms, made him take me in the most mind breaking way that I almost wanted to happen again. Wait– scratch that, almost.

My expression sour and Dane sees it making her reach out and rub the tip of my shoulder, "honey." she lightly said and tucked a stray hair back to my ears. "Was I bad?" I ask and she shakes her head. Her curiosity was forgotten. "Did the jerk make you feel bad? Unsatisfied..."

"No."

Quite the contrary.

I answered but the raw feeling so distasteful in my mouth when I saw him get up and dress the morning after, glancing at me guilty. Why was he guilty?

"Then what?" I can sense puzzlement and concern in her voice, eager to find me out and help me resolve these emotions whirling like a tornado inside of me. I was content when he made me happy. I never knew I wanted him like that, I thought it was just bodily want, lust that made a person want someone momentarily. I didn't know I really wanted him like that.
"He left." I explained. "He looked guilty, he looked like he had mistaken and got swayed by the moment like he had committed a grave crime."

"What a bitch." Dane shifted on her seat with her brow slowly frowning together. The words left her lips with much heavier curses than she formerly left out.

"He told me that it shouldn't happen again and apologized." I explained further. My voice almost cracked as if his rejection was something I was so concerned about making me rethink what happened between us that night, from how I reacted to how I responded. It was making me paranoid.