He didnât waste any time. At all. Holy shit.
âAs I â ?â Jackie started, lips already poised in an attempt to speak, only to take a short moment in order to clear her throat â wincing as that damnable strangled tone to her words appeared to indicate something of which she did not at all want him to know about, thank you very much! â just before sheâd tried again, doing her best to keep her wits about her even if sheâd had no fucking clue how to navigate this new type of territory, with this odd species of man thatâd seemed to have an edge on him that a lot of her own past experiences had never even come close to. At this point, she was just hoping she wouldnât say something sheâd inadvertently regret.
Hah! Fat chance of that happening.Â
Because god forbid, but she couldnât even get her thoughts in order enough to process this. Was he actually suggesting what sheâd thought he was suggesting?
âYou want me to strip for you?â
That could have come out better.Â
But yes. Yes, itâd appeared he did. And heâd expected her to do it willingly too, even considering theyâd just met. Something of which sheâd appreciated ( because she had a choice, itâd seemed ) but also something that was making her head spin. Because if the way those eyes raked across her body was indicative of anything, the mere intensity of his smoldering gaze sending straight shivers running up her spine that was making her knees weak â then oh boy.
Itâd appeared this man had a way of making people do things like that, with the absolute least amount of effort put on his part. An aspect that even now, sheâd dimly recognized as being very â
Oh, but dear god, why was her taste in men so fucking terrible sometimes?
Why was she into this shit?
âOr youâre â obviously just trying to get me to actually sleep with you, at the very least. Something of which - I mean, Iâm flattered, of course - â And tempted. âBut!â Oh, sheâd hoped he didnât read minds. âBut ââ Sheâd repeated, as tongue traced idly along her lower lip as sheâd wracked her brain in search for a witty response, trying to figure out what the right thing to say actually was, before finally â and very lamely, she might addâ settling on â âYouâre probably better off finding someone else. Iâm not interested, sorry.â
A clear lie, obviously, if anyone had ever heard one. Itâs written in the way her voice had pitched at the end, in the way her eyes made sure to avoid his own, in the faint flush thatâs risen to flood her cheeks. But maybe - just maybe - if she repeated it to herself enough, sheâd believe it.Â
She didnât think it was gonna be all that easy though.
The same shade blemishing the face of a woman who has yet to be touched-- a girl slowly learning how to pleasure herself-- the same heat that spreads upon her cheeks as her exploring fingers tread through the linen and press excitingly-- rubbing and getting herself off-- in a trance with the concept of the forbidden. It is morally challenging, yet the sensations should be enough to convince oneself that it is only right and acceptable. And why not? To dare is to be alive. He could see it from a mile away-- the expressions she could make while moaning and panting heavily. His eyes never seem to miss fine details such as this.
It was only then that he shifted his view.Â
It went lower, his gaze. It allowed him free reign to observe her shaking knees. He hasn't even touched her yet. If anything, he just spoke. His words were obviously deviant in nature, but he could not be entirely blamed, could he? When looking at this woman, it's hard not to be aroused. The hand of Belial would rest at his belt. As much as he was tempted to make his fingers crawl and merely grab on his junk and start jacking himself in front of her, he decided to at least grant her his patience. What's with the rush anyway? The fact that this conversation isn't diving into the act so quickly is what makes it appealing.
Not to mention, it's impossible to not find her faltering self adorable. She's such a fighter! Trying her utmost to deny the fact that she wants to ride him just as much as he can imagine himself plunging deep inside of her. How can he not admire that courage? It's futile for someone who can read beyond the surface-- who can survey into the depths of people's mind. Still, it wouldn't be fun to tell her that. Let her think he's just someone ordinary, and not some perverted archangel who just happened to pass by. The Primal Beast rubbed his hands together, keeping his smirk to continuously torment her and her already damned mind.
"Are you sure?" He doesn't want to sleep with her though. He wants to lay with her. No, he wants to use her body and fuck it so savagely. Was that too much to ask? Can't a Fallen Angel get around these parts? He refuses to believe his precious denizens are so fragile and boring that they wouldn't survive one good intimate session with him. If he needed someone else, he wouldn't be wasting time here. That much she should understand. Belial, for a moment, laughed in a breathy and gleeful fashion before he clapped his hands together once. Soon, his arms returned to his sides-- palms resting upon his hips. Oh, how others love his well-defined build. "There's something pleasant about it, isn't there? When you ask someone what they want. You already know, yet you demand an answer, for it brings you delight to hear it from them directly. I am going to ask again, are you sure?"
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