Breathless...

𝗛𝘆𝗽𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗰

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Simon's POV

Twinkling silver eyes. They're finally looking into mine.

            Fuck, he's kissing me. He's biting my lip softly. He's forgiving me. And he kisses so fiercely, so passionately, I think I should unbound him—just in case he breaks the chains, and pounces on me—As I pull away and take my wand out, reversing the spell holding him in the dark metal, adrenaline courses through my veins; because he just might kill me like this. His kisses just might smother me.

            I step further back as he unlatches himself from the wall, prowling towards me slowly, like a lion on the hunt. And my eyes are glued to his hips. . . The sensual, mind-numbing way he moves, but the rest of Baz's body demands just as much attention.

           He rakes a hand through his long, shiny dark hair and looks straight at me, grey storms raging in his eyes. Baz's eyes are hypnotic. And right in this moment I think, maybe vampires are capable of compulsion. Because right now, I'd do just about anything Baz wanted.

            The shaft of moonlight is stark over his imperious cheekbones, which are sharp as a fucking blade. Sharper than my sword, I swear. He looks like some dead-gorgeous dark prince of The Underworld. Pretty pink lips curve into a sinister smirk.

             My brain short-circuits.

             Fuck, why is my boyfriend so scary?

             I unconsciously back away, sensing danger. But of course, vampire. I blink and he's before me. An arm wrapping around my hips, a hand fisted in my hair. Crashing his mouth against mine. And he's so fucking strong my body groans in response to his hold.

            His cedar and bergamot scent drives me wild. It's the only thing I can sense for a minute.

            Baz is in attack mode, he bites on my lower lip, tugging it between his teeth. I moan into his mouth, my back arching into his hands. A raging hard-on pressing into his thigh, and he lifts me off the ground. And this time it's my legs around his waist. Refusing to let go for even a single second, (he doesn't even need to breathe as much, so it's easier for him,) I'm fucking panting by the time his mouth leaves mine. Baz doesn't give a flying fuck, his lips are already planted on my neck. On the mole he treats like a target. There are going to be so many bruises tomorrow. So many. He'll make sure of it.

             And if Merlin feels like answering all my wishes—he'll be sore in places he's never been. For that, though, I need to establish that I own his arse. I'm in control here.

            I twist a little in his grip, whipping out my wand, and I send him flying back to the wall, chained, restraining him all over again. Being the goddamn princess he is, Baz raises a perfect brow, and holds his chin high.

            I saunter over, smirking, and wrap my fingers around his belt buckle, stopping right before him, only an inch away from his lips. I step in, even closer, keeping our lips apart, and smirking right in his face. His nostrils flare—and I can feel it. I'm close enough to feel the rising tent in his pants.

            I'm feeling particularly cruel today. So, I slowly step into him, giving him only contact, no stimulation at all. . . And he snarls in my face, right after whimpering. I kiss the frown off. And despite the chains he bucks his hips forward, so seductively, that I can't help but give into him. . .