DESIRE

𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐻𝐼𝐿𝐿𝑆

I stood in the bathroom, putting on a fresh coat of lipstick. "Y/N!" Timothée yelled from the doorway.

We were going to a dinner party for Saoirse, and I guess it took me a while to get ready.

As always.

"I'm coming!" I shouted back, putting in some earrings.

I ran out of the bathroom, to the front door.

"Okay. Let's go, babe." I said quickly, opening the door.

I was halfway out of the apartment when Timothée grabbed my wrist.

"What?" I asked, slightly exasperated.

"You're stunning." He said, kissing me deeply.

I wasn't sure what to say, I couldn't help but just smile and blush.

"Hm. Hurry up, Monsieur Chalamet." I said, mocking a French accent, but he held me back.

"I like it when you say that, Y/N." He whispered, kissing my shoulder, pulling my dress down slightly.

I moaned softly as he kissed my neck, the bulge in his pants started to grow.

I turned to face him, and palmed his cock, looking deep into his eyes. He whimpered, breathing heavily.

"We're going to be late." I whispered into his ear, releasing him from my grasp, walking out the door.

Timothée whined, following me out the door.

We got to the car, and Timothée opened the car door for me.

"Well thank you, Monsieur Chalamet." I said, holding back a smile.

As we drove, Timothée would look over at me every few minutes. I would just stare out the window, and pretend nothing was going on.

I'm a sneaky little fucker.

We arrived at the party, and I greeted a few people while Timothée got us drinks.

We sat down at a table, and I chatted with Saoirse while Timothée sipped on his drink.

"Something wrong?" I asked him, slyly, raising an eyebrow.

He sighed, narrowing his eyes at me.

I continued my conversation with Saoirse, watching Timothée through my peripheral vision.

"Do you remember the time that we went to the gas station, and those two girls recognized you? We were trying to buy fucking beer?" I asked her, between laughs.

"Oh my god! Yes." Saoirse practically screamed, slapping her hand on the table.

I looked over to Timothée, who seemed to be holding his breath.

He made eye contact with me, and dropped his fork right out of his hand, it clattered onto the floor.

I moved my chair out, but Timothée stopped me.

"No! I can get it." He assured me, getting onto the floor.

"He's such a child." I whispered to Saoirse, rolling my eyes playfully. She giggled.

Suddenly, I felt a warm hand graze my leg. I gasped, my eyes widening.

"You okay?" Saoirse asked, and I nodded, smiling.

I gave Timothée a swift kick from under the table.

"Ow!" He yelled, his voice muffled a bit. When he got back in his seat, he looked disheveled.