2 and 7 with Santí bitch, I dare you 💖💖💖
Kiss prompts
2. A small, fleeting kiss - which is immediately followed by a passionate, hungry kiss; 7. French kisses where they trace every tooth with their tongues as though trying to memorize them.
rated: m, words: little less than 1k
part two of GUEST ROOM
Dripping wet from the shower, Pope pushes you onto the guest bed without a care of getting the sheets wet. He’d tenderly kissed your lips once when he turned off the water. But that small kiss turned to several. Your lips attaching, his hands finding your hips. His hardening dick pressing into your thigh. Limbs tangle as he backs you onto the bed. His arms wrap around your body, one on your back, the other cradling your head. His lips haven’t left yours and you’ve hardly come up for air.
Years of being without him are catching up with you. He’s missed you too. Judging from how hot his body is for you.
Without a word, he slips his hands between your legs. Rough pads of his fingers toy with your sex. His other hand comes up to your jaw. Thumb on your chin, he coaxes your mouth open. This gives him better access and he slips his tongue inside. His tongue traces your teeth and you tilt your head back moaning from all the stimulation.
This is not taking it slow at all.
The rain is picking up outside, and you’ve completely forgotten the plot of the book you were reading.
Rough fingers slip inside your heat, and you cry out. He swallows your groan and lets out a groan of his own. Your nails dig into his back when you hit your first high of the night. His mouth has moved from yours to land on your neck. His face buried there when he plunges his aching dick into your core. Fingers intertwining with yours, he pushes your hands above your head and kisses what he can reach. Your neck, your chin, your ear, your cheek. His stubble scrapes your skin and you writhe under him. He loves the power he has.
He doesn’t stop his thrusts until you’re hitting your second high. Your gasp comes out weak and cracked – he barely heard you over his own grunts.
“Where?” he grunts again, “shit, fuck, where?”
You didn’t answer him fast enough, he pulls out and his release lands on your stomach between your bodies. He groans loudly, body shuddering. His forehead, covered in a fine sheen of sweat, rests against your shoulder.
He lets out a gentle chuckle and kisses your skin.
“That was not slow,” you giggle as he rolls off you.
“Just like old times,” he laughs taking your hand in his. He kisses the back of your hand; his eyes meet yours.
“Don’t,” you feel flustered and turn your face away. The clock reads 2:19 am. This was not how you thought this night was going to go.
“Don’t what?” he props up on his elbow, pulling your arm towards him as he kisses up to your shoulder.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to hide from him. Your stomach feeling sticky, you start to get up.
“Like what?” he holds your body down. “Do you regret it already?” He sits up. “I’ll get out of your hair,” he starts to stand and reaches for a pair of shorts nearby.
“No, Pope, no.”
“I shouldn’t have done this,” he stands. His chain beats against his bare chest. And his ass looks better than ever.
“Santi, wait.” You sit up on the bed and reach for his arm. “I just forgot.” His big brown eyes were looking so intently at you, that you looked at your hands resting on your lap. “I forgot how good it feels when you look at me like that.”
His gaze is soft, and he steps forward. His body right in front of yours he cups your face in his hands, tilting your head to look up at him.
“You don’t have to be scared this time,” he whispers, thumbs rubbing your cheeks.
“What if I was?”
“You don’t have to be. Right now, let me clean you up and we’ll do some laundry,” he laughs pointing at the soaked sheets – remnants from the shower and your activities.
“Then sleep,” you laugh.
“Yes, then sleep,” he angles your head so that he can kiss the top of your head. You blink, your eyes level with his smooth chest. You plant a few soft kisses on the still damp skin there. Your hands smooth up his shoulders and your fingers touch the back of his neck.
He sees your eyebrows crease in concern when you feel a healed scar on the back of his neck.
“Surgery,” he murmurs.
Something about the thought of him having neck surgery swells your heart with emotion. You wrap your arms around him in a tight hug, your hands digging into his curls. You pull him back down on the bed with you, your lips once again finding each other.
“I’m so glad you came,” you hug him tight while he kisses your neck. “I want you to stay.”
His deep kiss is his answer, he’s staying.
xxx
tagging: @pascalispedro, @damndamer0n, @tintinwrites, @mandoplease, @huliabitch, @himbopoes, @mrpascals, @darksideofclarke, @yougottakeeponkeepinon
