Estranged • h.s.

25

My heart is beating out my chest while I walk out of the elevator. His hand is in mine, and I'm pulling him with me to my door, but I feel so nervous.

It's been so long since we were together like this.

I put in the code for my door, and we both walk in completely taken over by lust. My things are tossed to the side as I turn around, and the image of me stripping my clothes for him is enough to get me closer to ridding myself of this weird fear.

Why am I so fucking nervous?

He leans his back against the door as he shuts it fully, perfect jaw on display with his head leaned back. Then he drops it, looking at me with a stare that has me forgetting any sense of fear.

I slip off my shoes, socks going with them easily. Then it's my leggings, that I somehow manage to get off somewhat gracefully. He watches, looking down at my exposed underwear but right back up when my cropped jacket slides off my arms.

My heart pounds in my ears as my fingers begin to tingle at the thought of taking my shirt off. I internally cringe, sucking in a breath. I'm panicking, thinking of how badly I want to just leave it on and act like it's perfectly normal.

But that's a pipe dream with this man. The same man who has seen me so incredibly exposed more times than I can count.

I know he won't think of me any less, but God just the thought of the look in his eyes makes me want to die.

Fuck, he's staring at me. And I'm staring right back like a deer in fucking headlights. In a panic, I rip my shirt off and my stomach flexes on instinct, scars on display.

It's fine, they're part of me now.

All that's left is my zip-up sports bra before I'm standing in front of him in lace underwear. And his eyes are still on my face for a second, giving me just enough time to take in the last moment of keeping this from him. Enjoying the last little second of knowing he didn't have to see it, to think about it.

His eyes drop, and I consider ripping my underwear off to distract him. It's no use, though, because his eyebrows pinch as he inhales a pained breath. "Cec,"

I close the distance, grabbing his cheeks to force him to look at me. "Stop. It's just me, see me baby." I say, kissing him like it's the last time I can. He kisses me back, but I can sense the lack of intensity from him.

"Please," I whisper, kissing him more before I feel him fully give in. And that's my ticket. I back away, looking at him and reading his eyes. Something in me tells me he'll do what I ask.

I take slow steps backward, towards the couch, while I unzip my bra down the middle. I'm locked in on him as much as he is me, and like a moth to a flame his body is off the door.

I bite my lip, smiling wide as I make it to the dark living room, lit only by the city and the entry hallway light. Like kismet, the zipper barely hangs on at the base as he nearly makes it to me.

As soon as it comes apart, my arms fall and he groans, nearly growling, in a way that has me completely at his mercy. He grabs me, our lips colliding quickly while my arms wrap around him.

He kisses me and every thought that doesn't revolve around him leaves my head. I whimper when he bites my lip, and I scratch at his neck when his hand tightens around my throat.

Every time I think I know exactly what to expect, I'm utterly baffled at how easily he makes me want to spread my legs for him.

His grip tightens on my throat, making my mouth hang open. I pull away enough to look at his lips, focusing on the way he breathes. The way he loses control for me. My hands quickly work his shirt over his head, and then as he gets it fully off my hands are already unzipping his pants and pulling them down.