𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 || 21+

☆ | 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇-𝟐

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The rude author is back-lol
By the way, how do you like all my book covers? I made them myself chef's kiss 🤌
Now VOTE, don't just read and leave-for God's sake!

✴

The room was dim and quiet. Only the soft amber glow from the bedside lamp spilled over the bed, casting gentle shadows across the space. The air felt heavy-thick with tension, hunger, and something unspoken.

He stood at the edge of the bed, towering over you, his tall frame dark and strong, like a shadow you couldn't escape even if you wanted to. His jaw clenched ever so slightly, lips parted as he stared down at you. His eyes held something feral, something raw-desire mixed with obsession.

You lay on your back, breath shallow, chest rising and falling quickly. The sheets beneath you were cool, but your skin was already warm, burning under his gaze. You swallowed hard when he reached out, his hand slowly sliding under the hem of your top.

His fingers were warm-his touch tender, careful. He didn't rush. He watched you.

His voice came out in a whisper, thick and low. "Tell me to stop... if it's too much."

Your lips parted. You could barely speak, but you nodded slowly. "Don't stop. I want it... I want you."

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes remained soft-burning, but soft. He gently pulled your top up, lifting it over your head, revealing your bare chest. His movements were reverent, almost worshipping. He paused, just taking you in.

"You're..." he breathed. "So fucking beautiful." His voice cracked slightly like it stunned him to even say it out loud.

His thumb brushed over your nipple, slow and teasing. The moment he touched you, your back arched on instinct. The bud hardened beneath his touch, your lips parting with a shaky breath.

You felt his mouth next-warm, wet, and soft as he took one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. A moan slipped from your throat, quiet but uncontrollable. His other hand cupped your other breast, kneading softly, like he couldn't get enough of the feel of you in his hands.

Your fingers threaded into his thick hair, pulling him closer. "F-fuck... that feels so good..."

He chuckled low against your skin, his lips brushing the curve of your breast. "Good?" he murmured, eyes glinting. "Baby... we're just getting started."

He began kissing his way down your torso-slow, open-mouthed kisses that made your whole body squirm. His lips lingered at your belly, his breath hot against your skin. He reached the waistband of your shorts, fingers slipping under it, eyes meeting yours again.

"Lift your hips for me," he said gently, but with a tone that didn't ask-it told.

You obeyed. Your body responded before your mind did, lifting for him like you belonged to him. In one swift move, he tugged your shorts and panties down, discarding them to the floor.

You were bare now. Completely exposed under him. But you didn't feel embarrassed. You felt seen. Worshipped. Wanted.

His gaze locked between your thighs, and he breathed out a low groan. "Fuck..." He ran a hand up your inner thigh, spreading your legs apart like he was opening a gift.

"You're already dripping," he whispered, voice thick with awe and lust. His fingers brushed through your folds, slow, deliberate, and your body jolted at the contact. "All this for me?"

Your cheeks flushed. "Shut up..."

He laughed, but it was dark and low. "Shy now? Your mouth says no, but this-" he slid a finger through your wetness again "-says yes, baby."