INDOMITUS [18+]✔️

24: Ephemeral (R)

The thought made me bite my lips.

It looked so… filthy, so forbidden; yet something about it struck the most primal part within me. I was more turned on watching him rather than myself.

The way his nose was buried in my neck as his long fingers scissored through, the way his jaw clenched; he looked angry, domineering, powerful.

Even now, some strands of his curls fanned his forehead, sticking to his damp, glistening skin. His lascivious lips were slightly parted, his Adam's apple protruding.

I ran my fingers along the loose hairs, a smile gracing my lips. He was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at him.

My heart stuttered, I had no idea why I felt so euphoric, so sentimental for someone who was only a one time thi-

My fingers stopped in their trail, my eyes widening as the heavy realization on me. He leaned into my touch, as if silently urging me to continue whatever I was doing.

Touching him felt magical- like all of my dreams and fantasies coming true. Those tales I read about nymphs and pirates and everything that was ethereal and unreal, everything that was scary, Ares was the embodiment of it.

I ran my thumb over his cheekbone, an ache filled my chest. Like a growing wave of sea, the anticipation was rising, the agitation increasing, as if I was at the beach, my feet soaked into the cool sand, patiently awaiting that wave to touch me; but it never came.

Like a snowflake dispersing before touching the ground.

The silence was welcoming, comforting but it was also sizzling.

“You are so damn beautiful,” I whispered, running my thumb at the corner of his lip, his breath fanning my finger.

He remained silent.

“I am not lying,” I added as an afterthought, “I may be many things. A bitch, an immature and unprofessional person, a who-” His warm palm pressed on my face, taking me aback and shutting me up.

He turned and caged me between his arms, hovering over me.

“Stop belittling yourself, cariño.”

My eyes widened as I took him in. He looked… huge. He was almost a foot taller than me, up close he looked like someone who could crush me between his fingers.

“You are a capable woman,” His fingers touched the heated skin of my neck; a raw sensation of pleasure consumed me as I let out a heavy breath.

“Then believe me,” I whispered, “Believe me when I say you are the most beautiful human I have ever laid my eyes upon.”

He remained silent.

“It’s okay, Ares,” I brought my hand up, caressing the back of his head; my heart stuttering, lips throbbing as blood roared in my veins with vehemence. As if, I would combust at any moment.

I stroked his hair, his curls soft under my skin as small sparks of tingles danced under my palm. Nauseated from the joy, also from the fear; lest it was an ephemeral.

“We, as humans, can feel imperfect. We can be afraid, indecisive, scarred; it does not make us imperfect. For us, imperfection is like an ornament. I am not perfect, far from it and neither are you. That is what makes us humans, isn’t it? Imperfection?”

His thumb traced my lower lips, I let out an erratic pant; my nerves tightening in anticipation as I felt his own breath intermingling with mine. As if electrocuted, my body buzzed; every inch of me craved his attention. I traced my fingers over the strings that held his mask together.