Ｉｍｐｏｓｔｅｒｉｓｍ
ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀꜱɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴜᴄᴄᴇꜱꜱ ɪꜱ ᴅᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴏʀ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ʟᴇɢɪᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇʟʏ ᴀᴄʜɪᴇᴠᴇᴅ ᴀꜱ ᴀ ʀᴇꜱᴜʟᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴏɴᴇ'ꜱ ᴏᴡɴ ᴇꜰꜰᴏʀᴛꜱ ᴏʀ ꜱᴋɪʟʟꜱ
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A Kim Taehyung X OC Fanfiction
Artist X Actress AU
Contains mature themes and strong language
© 2020 Auralite All Rights Reserved
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There was tenderness in his eyes when he sets them on me. My heart reacts to the way he leans towards me, listens to me, watches me merely exist, so attentively, as if I am a subject to study. When he touches me, I feel like I'm waking up from a dream, suddenly aware of all my senses, and I feel powerful with him. I feel seen, heard and respected, in a way that's so empowering and so, so sexy. I wish to feel that all the time.
I heave breaths as his long fingers traced a path from my face to my neck, touching the soft satin covering my body. Despite my racing heart and him hovering over me, I felt in control.
"May I?" His dark chocolate eyes met mine, pleading innocently for something not likely so. His fingers curling over the cloth, waiting patiently, as if we had all the time in the world.
I nod, biting my lips as goosebumps rise over my body, hardening my nipples.
He sucked in a breath and unwrapped the soft fabric enough to bare my upper body. My heart started its uneven pounding against my chest as his tongue swipes over his soft lips, wetting them in a glossy sheen.
He wrapped one hand around my wrist, positioning the palm flat on my boob, another went up over my head, clutching the sheet above tightly. He put his palm over mine, covering it fully, as if his hand was the one on my breast. The idea itself making me wet. And then he squeezed.
My lips part in a soft gasp.
"Perfect," He breathed. "Stay still."
And then he left me to my fantasies as he stains the canvas with the image of me, half-naked, caressing and pleasuring my own body. The body that feels like mine to love and cherish again, after so long.
Even though I feel this sense of achievement at gaining trust in myself, it was once again with the help of another man. I frowned, staring at the white ceiling, a few splashes of paint had managed to taint it too.
The brush stopped. "What's wrong?" He asked.
My life is out of my hands. My body doesn't belong to me. The world doesn't know my secret, and I'm terrified you will expose me.
"Nothing."
***
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