Love Cliché | DISC 1 | ✔️

Seventieth Cliché | Mia

His lips stained her skins with his mark. His marks of possession was littered on her body. No where was exempted. If he was able to, he was willing to mark the deepest part of her. If he could, he wanted something permanent for her.

More than the necklace, more than the clothes she wore, nor the bruises left from his mouth, he wanted to something more lasting...just as she wanted something more.

Like a dream, I watched above the female, as sounds of pleasure and intimate touches were shared.

My soul connected to the body, it felt the touches shared by the male and female. And I wondered, the sounds she make, if it was true.

The second guessing...was acceptable. It was too soon to be so in that deep. I wondered how she could do easily push her precious flower to the man she so desperately hated.

Hated...not any more, not when she screamed his name. I watched as her fingers traced his facial features until his jaw and then to his pectoral muscles. Her rose colored nails, done by the courtesy of a friend, dragged across his skin until it went to his hands.

One held her legs apart and the other was pressing on her flower bud, as two fingers were prodding the entrance deeply in order to fasten up the blooming process. The male's words were possessive and crude but it seemed to fuel the female even more. Her body was on hyper mode as her back arched and her walls clenched around his fingers causing the evil man to smirk and brag of his superiority.

I watched silently as her hands kept her legs spread like a bird's wing. She kept her eyes on him and all he did. She liked the way his tongue hung out at times in focus. She liked the way he would lick the corners of his mouth when his name rolled off her tongue and so she sang his name like a prayer.

Over and over again, his name would escape from her tongue and my eyes widened but no matter what, I could not close my eyes.

He lifted her hips above, and using his strength, he settle her on his shoulder. His face touched her inner thighs as her legs were on either side of his shoulders. He hungrily moaned as her scent of arousal took control of him and I saw him. I saw the look of hunger flash into his eyes before he shoved his tongue on her unbloomed flower bud. He drank the honey that she gave him and took more from her until she was a shuddering mess. 

Somehow she still desired more. With easy help form the male, she sat on his chest before she brought her flower closer to him. She desired him to urge her flower to bloom. Or at least to feel the indescribable sensations brought forth by his tongue.

Now I realized that the woman did not hate the man. No that was an excuse that she would tell herself because her face was in pure bliss as his mouth gave her body more stimulation.

She came with a thundering cry, her body trembling with finality. More than this she would faint.

I watched with confusion now settling in my head. I watched as the male gathered the woman he made a mess of and sucked a nipple one last time as she gasped and pushed him away weakly. I watched as his deep voice chuckled and gently, with care, he lifted her up like a princess and took her to the bathroom, where a still warm, steaming tub waited for her.

She soaked as she watched male went out to take care of other needs. She wondered and licked her lips as she heard her name come from the closed door. Her fingers graced her body, the bruises on her chest, the ones that she could see, until her fingers travelled lower and into the waters to her inner thighs. She stopped as I realized what she was doing. She pulled her fingers out and washed her body with the bubbles gently before getting out of the tub.

With a towel wrapped around her, she went to the mirror above the sink.

I followed her.

My eyes heavy but still with desire to know followed her and looked over her shoulder. The thing was when I looked in the mirror, I saw her.

She looked in the mirror and she saw me as well.

She was me and I was her.

I was...Mia.

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Back home, it did not feel like home.

The place I had lived for years had become obsolete—nothing but a place where I stored my personal objects.

My eyes settled on the mirror in the bathroom. I followed the spots on my neck to my upper chest. It was a reminder of nights that I spent with him.

My body burned with every graze of his fingers. When he would lightly touch, every single nerves in my body would be jolted awake before it would hone into where his fingers would touch me.

Open to him, I would hate myself as his long, perfect fingers would make circles on the pearl of my womanhood before letting the fingers slide inside the tight warmth. Then I would love his fingers as my body trembled from only his administrations. My eyes would blind itself and cover my sight with darkness to focus on the wonders of pleasure brought forth by his fingers alone.

With how words alone, I would be sent on a rollercoaster ride that would build up until I begged and begged. He would only allow the fall to occur from dangerously high heights so that when I came on his fingers, and his voice travelled into my ear canal, all I was doing was screaming his name while cumming ferociously.

Even when the touches were gentle, only, without ulterior motive, my body would yearn for something more provocative.

When his hand grabbed any part of my body, it would start a slow fire. At first it had been a flash fire and I would get hot all of the sudden, but now his familiar touches would begin a slow fire that would engulf my entire body. Taehyung probably did not know what he was doing nor the kinds of effects that he had on me. He was doing what he was experienced with and what he knew how.

There was a slight resentment whenever thoughts like that entered my head, but I always pushed it aside because it was a dangerous thought.

It was still a dangerous thought and it was now even more lethal because I knew it to be truth.

I was beginning to...love Taehyung Kim.

My heart was enraptured by his rare smiles, his handsome face, his brown eyes, and his soft lips and warm tongue.

And the thing about a woman's heart was that it was fickle but, total captivation of the woman's heart meant one thing.

There is no room for anyone but the man who owned her body, mind, heart and soul.

Hers was not mark anymore...

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Ending Season 3 with a slight smut...
See you in ten days!!