You love your boyfriend a lot! He is adorable, has a wonderful personality, a great voice and his smile just adds to it. But sometimes, he talks way too much. Like right now. He has just come back from a company dinner and is going on and on about it when you just want him to shut up. In a good way.
You pay attention to everything he says every time, but today is not one of those times. You are heavily distracted by him and the blur of his deep voice is just forming a pleasant backdrop in your fantasy. You shamelessly check him out, eyes lining along his glasses, nose, lips, moving along his jaw and collarbone, down to the collar of the shirt, which had a few buttons undone.
And the black thin tie hanging loosely around his neck. That damn tie! Oh, the amount of self-control you have for not ripping it off him then and there. Your eyes trace the veins of his forearm that disappear into the rolled-up sleeves at his elbow. It should be illegal to look this good in a white button-down shirt.
You look back at him while he remains blissfully unaware of the whole situation you are going through, just because of how good he looks. He yaps on and on about something Matthew did, not pay attention to your light-headedness and impatient breath and it just makes you bold enough to do the next thing.
Your fingers wrap around his tie and before you can second-guess yourself, you are pulling him by his collar and attaching your lips to his. Taerae doesn’t even flinch as he naturally morphs into the kiss, lips moving over yours slowly. He traces his fingers over your arm of the hand still holding on to his tie and gently places his over yours.
The kiss is slow and sensual and maybe it is the warmth of his hand on yours, or the light taste of smoke and wine intoxicating your senses, or the smirk you can feel against your lips that makes a zoo of butterflies erupt in your stomach.
As you two part, reality seeps back in and an amused smile takes over his face as he watches your hand drop from his tie in an abrupt manner and then goes back up again in a futile attempt to un-crumple it.
He raises an eyebrow, saying, “That is an effective way to shut me up,” his melodic, low-tone voice sending a shiver down your spine as it echoes lightly in the quiet room. He chuckles as you refuse to look up, feeling shy. It is all his fault, actually, curse him for looking so good!
He places a finger under your chin, hot breath fanning your face as he slowly tilts it up and meets your hazy eyes. He chuckles darkly, “Why are you shy now, when you started it?” A sultry look encompasses his eyes, making you gulp down your dry throat.
“And you should always finish what you start, isn’t it, sweetheart?” his rhetorical question, paired with his voice that has visibly dropped an octave, does nothing but intensify the heat pooling between your legs as a slow and pathetic whimper rises up your throat.
“Or do you want someone to finish it for you?” At this sentence, he takes off his thin glasses, and you release the gasp you have been holding as his words hit directly to your core. He traces his fingers dangerously low on your waist, a smirk overtaking his lips and he continues, “Speak up, love.”
His cologne infiltrates your senses, forming a pleasant haze as his grip tightens around your stomach and he presses his fingers down, earning another light whimper from you. It would be a lie if he said he didn’t notice your ministrations as he was talking; he did, he was just waiting for you to break down.
But you didn’t need to know that!
After what feels like an eternity, his lips are over yours, again, in a rushed manner as your back hits the couch. He moves atop you, his hand manoeuvring your jaw, holding it roughly as he deepens the kiss. It is hot and rushed and you feel devoid of your surroundings as you chase his lips in a feverish manner that are still attached to yours. Your eyes roll in pleasure as his fingers trace patterns on your waist, going lower by every passing second.
He kisses you like you are his only source of water in a scorching desert, his desire pooling over his senses as he bites and nibbles on your lower lip, forming the perfect amount of pressure and pleasure to get lost in. He parts for a while, scanning your hot and bothered face as his bangs fall lightly to the side and his tongue comes out to wet his own.
Breathless, senses filled with him and nerves going overboard- that is how he likes you in moments like these.
Your breath feels short and you stare at him with hooded eyes, mind clouded and senses clogged and an open mouth and he takes his chance, diving in again. His tongue runs over your lower lips; your fingers rake his hair as you moan breathily and it allows him access inside as he battles with your tongue for dominance.
It really is no issue, since you are putty in his hands and your fight dies as his fingers press against your neck with a light amount of pressure. You are suddenly thankful you are pushed against the couch because it is certainly giving you an ounce of support while Taerae abuses your mouth like a starved man.
When he parts again, he takes in your sight, flushed cheeks, half-lidded eyes and red lips and it feels the best sight of the world to him. Your eyes focus on him, somewhat, taking in his tousled hair, loose shirt and equally red lips and the scene makes you breathless, but probably not as much as his next words do. “Let’s see how long you can go without talking now!”
ARCHV ⠀ ✦ ⠀ stanning zb1 was probably the best decision i have made and while i want to actively ignore everything rn i cannot just let it be and here is an honour to my bias. this was written way earlier and slipped to the back of my drafts but it is posted and i hope zeroses are happy to read
´ ᵕ ` ⠀⠀ zb1 shelf ⠀navi ⠀,⠀taglist . fill this / comment / ask
