it's hot as fuck, enjin thinks to himself. that statement could apply to the temperature of the room and the state of you underneath him at the moment, however.
your body is slick with sweat, his hands dig into your waist as he tries to keep them from sliding as he moves you against him. your spine bows off the mattress with a particularly mean drag of his cock, and your lips part with a moan that he quickly muffles.
your lips are sticky. lip gloss is smeared halfway to your cheek from all the kissing prior, but it's not like either of you really care about it. enjin likes to drag his tongue along the trail as his hips snap forward.
your lips taste like cherries— that only makes him throb more.
admittedly, enjin doesn't always like when you wear lip gloss. usually it's the kind that has glitter, and he hates trying to get the glitter off of him throughout the day after you kiss him— because of course you completely douse him in affection before either of you leave for the day.
but there was something about this cherry flavor…
he got the first taste of it when you were out for drinks earlier with the rest of the cleaners. you offered him a sip and he ignored the smudge around the rim— but the way it mixed with the alcohol had his head spinning just the slightest. it was like getting an indirect shotgun— and he was obsessed.
so, naturally; enjin asks for plenty of kisses on the walk back to headquarters. it's nothing out of the ordinary, enjin always gets needy and greedy when drunk or tipsy.
but this particular night it was hot and humid. sweat made your clothes stick to your skin uncomfortably and with enjin looming over it was overwhelming. he naturally radiates heat— so the weather made it worse.
by the time the two of you got back to your shared dorm, you were… irritated, to say the least. his hands were up your shirt the moment the door closed and before you could open your mouth to snap at him to leave you alone— his lips were on yours.
you don't remember feeling him peel you out of your clothes. it's a wonder you even remember him laying you back against the sheets— and judging by how he kept chuckling to himself, he knew. just a few sloppy kisses while you were already drunk and enjin could hold your melted body as a puddle in the palm of his hand.
was he worried about the heat when he found you already slick between your thighs? no.
he was addicted to that cherry lip gloss of yours, diving back up to lick at your mouth as his cock slides between your folds with little resistance. and you— powerless to do anything but let him manhandle you against the sheets.
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