Daddy Didn't Love Me // Lawlorff

Twenty Nine

Kian followed me into our apartment and I could tell that this feeling of his wasn't going to go away unless I acted upon it. I hopped into bed and shed off my shirt and Kian smirked at me from his spot in the doorway. He dimmed the lights and locked the front door behind him. He threw off his shirt too and I couldn't help but feel pain upon looking at his bandages from the bullet my father put in him. 

I tried to push off the feeling, it was distracting and irrelevant to the situation at hand. Kian unzipped and unbuttoned his pants and then pulled them down his skinny legs. He was wearing black boxers and revealed how excited he really was. 

If you know what I mean. 

Kian jumped onto the bed, positioning his legs around my waist, working on getting my pants off intensely. 

"I can get it off myself, baby," I laughed. 

He smiled. "I got it," he said, snapping the hinge with his teeth. I whimpered as he pulled my jeans off and threw them on the hardwood floor next to the bed. 

He kissed my neck, sending shivers down my spine with each touch of my skin. I felt goosebumps rise up on my arms and he ventured with his lips down to my collarbone. He tugged on a piece of skin with his teeth, my heart skipping a beat as he did so. He knew very well what he was doing, and he was doing it well. 

Kian developed a system over the time we had been together, trying to figure out what turned me on the most. He knew every spot I liked him to touch and how hard I liked him to bite, resulting in quite the many hickeys on my part. 

He followed his roadmap to heaven and took his lips down my chest, slowly. With every kiss, he looked me right in the eye, so deliberately trying to get some sort of reaction out of me. I smirked down at him and he smiled as he placed his lips onto my bare skin again. 

He always kept mind of the scar I received so long ago, working his way around it and being careful not to let it hurt me. He was so thoughtful in that respect, avoiding every bump and bruise wrongfully put there by whatever evildoer instilled upon me. 

He traced his fingers along my ribcage, careful not to press on them because I was prone to pain in that region from back when I was anorexic. The bones used to show so perfectly, prominent to the other parts of the body, just enough so for the world to see my so called progress. 

I looked up at our apartment ceiling as Kian's hands drifted down further, it wasn't long before neither of us had anything on at all. I arched my back and slid my head deep into the pillow while Kian did what he wanted with me. My head felt weightless and he twisted his legs around mine. I felt like my eyes might just roll back into my head and dissipate forever. The euphoria that came over me made me feel like I had been overdosing on drugs. It wasn't too far off, metaphorically speaking. I dabbled a little with the illegal substance department back in my dark days, and by my personal viewpoint, Kian was better than any drug known to man. 

Kian wasn't bad for me either. I could overdose on his love every night and still be right as rain, and I loved him for that. As poisonous as Kian may feel, he's nothing but good for me, nevertheless addictive as ever. 

And I was about to overdose on my personal stock of Kian right then.