House Rules

Realization

You had an idea of where Erik was going with those comments and you chose to ignore him. You weren’t naive afterall, just inexperienced. You finish your sandwich and stand from the couch to take a closer look at the decorative masks on the wall, needing to put some distance between the two of you. A particular mask with colorful ornate carvings, long horns, and hair like a mane caught your attention.

“That one’s my favorite. Go ‘head.. touch it,” he says, voice quickly nearing your ear. You didn’t hear him get up, but you feel his presence directly behind you as his breath tickles your neck. You reach up to feel the tufts of hair.

“Does this.. have a specific meaning to you,” your voice floats breathy and an octave higher and you can hear the nervousness in it. You lightly clear your throat and focus on the mask, a shelter from the building heat, as he gently smooths your bountiful curls to the side.

“Stroke the horns,” he murmurs.

You risk a glance at him over your shoulder and his narrow eyes are trained on the mask as well, to your relief. You decide to humor him. You lightly grasp the horns by the base so not to rip the mask from the wall, and slide your hands stroking them up and down with a slight twisting motion.

“Your horny ass really did it too.”

“You told me to!” Your head cranes to look at him and your voice goes up a few octaves already strained by anxiety.

“Shh shh,” he smirks. His lips graze the crook of your neck, trailing a feather-light path to your ear. His tongue lightly retraces the path forcing a gasp followed by the return of the pulsing down below and unsteady breaths through your nose. You lick your lips, blinking rapidly to calm yourself.

—

“I ain’t say stop.”

She was rigid. Her breathing, irregular. He could feel her heart thump through her neck like a rabbit’s pulse in the teeth of a predator. And he was barely touching her.

“You like this teasin an’ shit? I think you do…” 

His left arm wrapped tightly around her waist while this right hand traveled up, over her belly, over her titties, pulling her chin up to expose more of her neck.

“Keep stroking the horns.”

He deeply inhaled the light fresh scent coming from her as she gulped audibly. Tones of vanilla wafted into his nostrils and he allowed himself to indulge as she absentmindedly bit at her full bottom lip.

“I warned you twice tonight that I’m on some other shit yet you still here. Why,” he murmured into her neck.

“Be-because I care…,” she stuttered in nearly soundless breaths.

“But that can’t be the only reason…,” he cooed, “Or you wouldn’t be this damn nervous. You breathing hard as fuck, why?”

—

It’s true, your chest is heaving and anytime you try to control your breathing, his tongue darts across your skin taking away that option. Like now, he’s formed a tight suction on your neck and it’s keeping you from thinking straight.