Moonlight Kisses

hope is a dangerous game

jordyn.

My thoughts can't seem to catch a break. I have no comprehension of everything that happened in the hallway just now and even less understanding of what came over me to allow my desires to go to that extent.

My desires? No, I was just playing the game. Trying to gain leverage. Aiming to win.

Until his touch clouded my mind. Then I was done for. I was wholly in the hands of my desires, not once thinking about who they could be gravitating to.

I need him to stop. I need him to understand. He's on the brink of pushing me to my breaking point if he doesn't shut the hell up and listen to me. "What'd you think?" he spat with a derogatory look in his eyes, "That I was going to applaud you? Give you a fucking gold star for acting like an easy s─" Slut. I'll put up with a lot of his shit. His temper. His laziness. His lack of human empathy. But I'll draw the fucking line at his deriding comments. In a rush of anger, I shove him against the wall, a move I've come to know too well.

After that things went to shit. In an attempt to silence him, I only put us in a more difficult position. An intimate one. Except there was nothing 'intimate' about the circumstance. We were solely fueled by our aggression and as Adelaide would say...

'Pent up sexual frustration'.

He thrusts me against the wall before I could process enough to tell him to stop. By the time my back hit the wall I realized I didn't want to stop. There was something about his quick, driven movements that heightened my senses. Like his fingers were the transfer circuits of intense need that I'd never experienced before. Every nerve in me sparks with that intensity, setting a fire to all parts of my body. The most ardent one being in between my legs.

He can't see me falter. I already made myself most vulnerable on the way over here. It'd be dumb of me to allow that to be the same case. He knows my physical weakness. It's about time I take that control back and explore where his limit lies.

His eyes are branding into mine with searing ferocity. "The only power you think you have is what I give to you," he rasps in a deep voice. The sheer dominance in his words makes me shudder. Not in fear. But in anticipation.

The good thing about having control is not having to anticipate anything. You're calling the shots. The only person that knows exactly what you're going to do is you.

I took that into consideration as I resumed to play the game we've been playing all night. The power struggle. "Oh you couldn't be more wrong," I say, making my voice deeper, making every word slower and more lust-laced than the last. A bold rush driven by pure ardor pushed me to graze his clenched jaw with my finger. I watch in awe as it clenches and unclenches under my gentle path. The fullness of his heart-shaped lips draw my finger to them like a magnet. Under the pad of my finger his lips are soft. I pull his bottom lip down teasingly before dragging my finger down to his solid chest. As expected, he's hard to read throughout this whole process. It isn't until I feel the frantic beating of his heart that I know I've made my intended effect on him.

And if that wasn't victory enough, I point it out to him. The same way he did to me in the car. The only difference being I'm only touching him. He had his lips on my neck. It's remarkable how such subtle innocent contact could make the mind wander to far filthier places.

My logical mind only meant to stop there. Just to prove to him that he's not the only one with secret weapons up his sleeve. To show him that he hasn't won the game just yet. I'm competitive. And my competitive nature got the best of me then. The rest was just lust. Repulsively lusting over the guy I hate the most. I didn't expect anything less though. His sex appeal is crystal clear to anyone with eyes, I've admitted that plenty of times.