First and last time.
••••••
My eyes are staring at the ceiling. The beating of my heart is overly loud, I think it's a bit abnormal considering I can hear it, and I am certain the wolf in the room can damn hear heart the blood in my veins pumping as well.
My hands grip my night dress; so much so that I can almost feel my nails dig into my palms through the material. Maybe it's to cease the damn moths flying in my gut, maybe it's for some sort of moral support to avoid that small voice in the back of my mind, somehow forbidding me from doing this. Telling me I shouldn't.
I know the consequences of this. I know it changes nothing, and our fate remains the same.
He steals my attention by hovering over me. Close enough to feel his body heat. Both hands cage my head. His eyes, though nonchalant, hold a peacefulness I can't exactly explain. His eyes dart from one eye to the other, and with just a twitch upwards from his lips, he leans down and presses his lips against mine again.
Simultaneously, his right hand parts of my knees enough for himself to lodge between them. He then pulls away, just enough for us to feel our breaths mingle with each other.
"Don't be nervous." He speaks right against my lips.
"I'm no—"
"I can hear it. Your heart." The fact that he smiles against my lip. "No need to be nervous, it's just me." As he says this, his hands glides back down to my stomach, mingling with my hands only for a hot moment before the glide down further, and the further it goes, the more anxious I get.
And then, his hand is there. Right by the core of me, pressed against my underwear, and yes, I am embarrassed considering it's granny undies, but the way he bites his bottom lip makes me certain that he cares not about that. Not when he rubs me intimately, enticing my pearl to come out of hiding, despite it already being enticed and intrigued.
He then raises his hand to his mouth, slips out his tongue and gives it a good lick. His hand then trails right back down, leaving a trail of saliva against my stomach until he slips his hand beneath the band of my underwear. His fingers make direct contact with my core, I'm certain either of us know that what he explores is no Sahara desert; my body has long accepted his touch, enough for every single glance or touch to cause an instant reaction.
So he slips a finger right in, no hesitation though slow enough for myself to digest it. Instinctively, my natural reaction is to gasp and take hold of his wrist, despite not knowing whether I want him to stop or... or.
But the eye contact is overwhelming, purely because I don't know what he's conveying behind his gaze. Though, he fails to blink, to shift his gaze. He fails to allow any slightest thing to gain or retrieve his attention, because his sole focus is on me. My face. My eyes. Deep within my eyes.
"You're so pretty." He mumbles under his breath, but the silence between us makes his voice just that much louder.
Out of appreciation, out of gratitude even despite having heard him say that so many times, my part my lips to thank him, though absolutely nothing but a moan escapes my lips the very moment he starts moving his finger to and fro. Instantly, my jaw lowers just slightly, with eyebrows definitely furrowing at the pleasure that starts from my core, into my stomach, and flaring into my chest.
Micah smiles lightly. It's very small but it's there, and his eyes dart from one of my eyes to the other, and then to my lips. "I gave you a compliment."
"Thank y—" I whisper, humming as another round of tingles and pleasure skates my body. My hand tightens it's hold on his wrist.
The man leans down, pressing his lips against mine in a sweet kiss, so my heavy breathing comes out as hums. He then pulls away, grazing his lips again mine as he breaths out deeply. "You went through all of that alone?" He mutters, fingers moving faster than the starting tempo. "I don't know if I should be upset or devastated for you."
