ITS SOFT AND CUTE AND SLUTTY IM SORRY BABY I REALLY AM
His body is pressed against my own as we lie on our sides grasping at each other like our lives depend on it, his hand slinking up the back of my shirt pressing me tighter to his bare chest, my own fingers tracing the tattoos that adorned his torso, moaning into the kiss when he bites my bottom lip softly pulling away for a brief moment "do you know how many dreams I've had about that sound?"
His fingers tug roughly at the bottom of my pyjama shirt, nuzzling his face into my neck and biting into the skin there, sucking the marks left softly and pushing me over onto my back, kneeling over me. Eyes briefly flickering over to the nightstand where the rosary beads I'd had since I was small stuck out from the drawer and I'm suddenly over come with a sense of dread, is this wrong? I mean I don't belive In God but what if-- "Shirt off. Please, fuck, need to see you"
Sitting up now, he's in his knees straddling my lap, legs squeezing my middle slightly, almost uncomfortable, a light pressure from the small weight that had been shifted to my stomach. Soft hands pulling my shirt up, running his hands beneath the material until it bunches at his wrists, pushing it up over my chest, pulling it over my head.
Eyes wandering back to the rosary, except this time he sees, pausing briefly, tossing the shirt to the side and cupping my cheeks, guiding me to face him, "Hey, we don't have to" despite both being shirtless and with kiss bitten lips he offers me a way out, a moment to tell him to leave to pretend it was a mistake and part of me wants to take it, but that part of me still fears a god I long since killed in my mind, "No I want to…if you do" Everything seems slower, more gentle, his hands softer, a finger hooked beneath my chin, tilting my head back to accept a much longer, slower kiss. Feeling the tenseness melt away almost, hands draped behind his shoulders, one wrist crossed over the other, loosely, "That's right, just relax pretty girl"
His weight is slowly pressed into me until we both lay together, vent at the waist he continues the kiss, hand sliding from my stomach to the sports bra I wore to sleep in, tugging slightly at the band and mumbling against my lips, an awkward moment "Can I…touch you? Properly I mean" Suddenly the weight of everything we were doing and his body becomes real and on instinct I look away, nodding onto the pillows of my bed, unable to look at him, it was all too real, to lucid. Shit. Am I really doing this?
Pulled from my thoughts by the sensation of teeth on skin, bra pushed up and chest exposed, the duvet tented over us both and his hand cupping my brest, his plans brushing over pebbled nipple with care and precision, squeezing harshly when he bites into my shoulder, somewhere lost in thought I hadn't realised the noise I had been making, soft and needy little noises somewhere between gasps and whines, feeling him groan against my skin, exploring every inch. Dazed and lost in the feeling of his body against mine and the creeping anxiety about what we were actually doing, too warm and barely able to breathe I don't realised my hands are pushing his shoulders trying to get space are, trying to breathe, only when he stops everything sitting up and looking at me so gently, voice quiet "Are you alright? Breathe angel breathe" taking a deep breath himself and using his hands to motion to copy, suddenly aware of the tightness in my chest.
OKAY YOU ARE FORGIVEN
loving the religious theme after, you know, the tweet 🤭