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Pretty (Levi Aot)

Now his face is really burning, and it’s not like you couldn’t feel his cock twitching against your dampening core at your words, either. He averts his gaze, staring at the blank slate of the ceiling as you rid him of his t-shirt. Your lips dance across his chest, tongue occasionally swiping around a nipple, drawing a wet line down the center of his abdomen, leaving trails of saliva in the toned divots in his stomach. There, you suck and bite and mark, until Levi can’t help but squirm beneath you. His chest rises and falls rapidly, lips parted to pave the way for short, labored breaths. A sheer layer of sweat begins to build on his skin, casting him in a godly, luminescent glow. The more he falls apart, the more eager you become, the more diligent you work.

“I love the way you look right now,” you whisper against his collarbone. Instinctively he cranes his neck, wanting your lips to be closer. You oblige him, puckering your mouth to his throat, kissing him until he’s tremors turn to trembling. “To think that ‘m the only person to ever see you like this...” Slowly, you grab his wrist, guiding it between your thighs until his fingers drag against your clothed cunt. “It makes me so wet for you.”

Levi groans, another choppy breath faltering past his lips. He ghosts his fingers along your folds, allowing the heat and wetness to transpire on the pads of his fingers. When he nudges your clit, he feels you tense against him, eyes falling shut in a way that only tells him it’s a pleasurable sensation. He takes a mental note.

His eyes are visibly more wider, silver irises practically twinkling, as if when you peel your lids back, you’re staring into a sea of smokey quartz. You didn’t think it was possible to become more attracted to Levi, but every day, he seems to prove you wrong. With his hand between your thighs, timid strokes growing more confident, you slowly tear at the seams.

“Does it... feel good?” he asks. Even though he correctly infers the answer, he still has this nagging desire to hear it from you.

As you grind your cunt against his fingers, hands digging into his shoulders, you nod quickly. “Y-yes. Come.”

He furrows his brow, unsure what you mean, but when you slump forward, sliding your arms around his neck, he understands. You capture his lips, immersing yourself in his taste. Your tongue is already dragging along his bottom lip, begging for an entrance that he doesn’t even have to think to accept. He just opens his mouth, desperate to eradicate any bothersome space. He wants to be close to you. Closer. Is it even possible? Your tongue massages his, and he slides his hand around your back, fingers nudging the hook of your bra.

“Want me to take it off?” you ask against his lips.

He swallows, then nods, eyes never leaving your face as you reach behind you with two hands and shed yourself of your bra. His eyes fall to your lips, glowing with a translucent gleam from his saliva, perfectly swollen and pump from kissing.

You feel the tremor in his fingertips, and place your hands atop his, easing any lingering anxieties. Your eyes hold a softness that seems to swaddle him.

“You can touch me more, now,” you instruct. You slowly guide his hand up your stomach to your breast, where he cups the soft skin in his palm. He squeezes gently. “You’re the only person I ever want to touch me, Levi.”

Something about your words lights a fire in him. Touch me, touch me, touch me. Is it true? Is he the only one? That’s right. Just as he is a blank canvas for you, you are a canvas for him. He knows it’s entirely possible to undo you piece by piece. He saw it with his own eyes just a moment ago when he had his fingertips between your shaking thighs, slowly grazing against your swollen, soaked mound. Which means... there are plenty of ways to make you feel good just as you hope to do so with him.