Foreign: Spider Socorro

Part 2: 6 (be prepared pls)

"That's so beautiful. Do you know why they grow over things like this?" I said, running my fingers over the edges of the soft petals.
Flowers grown over old masks, placed at the bottom of the staircase to the glass room. Our old masks.

"Maybe because a pretty girl wore it, a while ago?" Spider laughs, moving himself from beside me to behind me.
"You're so cute when you want to be." I laughed, feeling his arms wrapping around my waist. He pulled me back, swaying us in a hug.

"I know, right?" He smiled, lifting me up off of the ground. With laughter, he placed me smoothly back to the ground, spinning me to look at him.

"Stop." I grinned, looking at him veering down to me.

"I'll beat you to the top." He whispered, taking off from in front of me up the stairs.
"No!" I shouted, grabbing at his flapping loincloth. My hands connected with the material, slipping as he ran away.

"Come on, loser!" He yelled. I could hear his footsteps receding up the steps as I stood defeated at the bottom. My hands rested on the step, kneeling from where I grabbed him from.

Sighing, I spoke quietly to myself.
"Gosh, this boy." I smiled, pushing myself up with a grunt.

                         ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"Spider? Hello? Come on, don't do that. It's creepy enough." I complained, shutting the door to the observatory behind me. It clicked, shielding the windows with dark tint.
In a surprise, someone grabbed me, ripping off my mask. It tumbled to the ground before their body came in contact with mine.

Spider.

His lips crashed into mine, holding my face for the first time since the war. My hands roamed around his body, feeling scars, scratches and his flexing muscles. Our tongues collided, sweeping together with warm touch. I felt his breath against my cheeks, pushing hard on my skin.
His hands.
Feeling down my neck, shoulders and arms. One hand pressing on my lower back, scraping with his nails. Spider pushed my body closer to his, feeling the warmth of his skin fully contacted. His lips, wet with the saliva of our own. Pushing softly, moving in every moment.

He placed one last, tender peck onto my lips and pulled away. His eyes gleamed with life, smiling from ear to ear.

"Remember when I said I could make your night?" He whispered, rasping on each syllable. My hands interwoven with his, he pulled me to him. Our faces only inches apart, waiting to be closed.
"Show me." I smiled, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck.
He chuckled, putting his hands on my legs and picking me up. I sat again him, carried like a child. His arms pushed against my legs, wrapping them around his waist.
I felt the shuffle of his steps over to the corner.

There were old blankets and pillows, gathered from each part of the room.
Spider stood in the middle of the blankets, carefully placing himself on his knees. He arm slid to my head, leaning me back to the pillows. And with a hungry smile, he lunged back over me.
His lips there again, colliding with every urge of his heart against mine.
Smiling against the kiss, my hand placed on the back of his head, pulling him closer.

A deep inhale, taking in every inch of our skin together. His boy laid over mine, pressing himself into me. His chest, beating against my heart. Our hands, tangled indie hair of each other, pulling and massaging with what came to mind. Our lips again, stuck. Frozen in a moment of lust and weakness, tension.
With my closed eyes, I felt him pulling away. His lips lingered just barely touching my skin.

"We have all day. What do you want, love?" He smiled, hovering his face over mine.

"You." I whispered, putting my hands back on his face. Our lips crashed together again, hungrily. His body felt hot under my hands, running my fingers over bulging muscle. His arms bent on each side of my face.
Rolling over, he picked up my body, placing it on top of his lap. He laid under me, looking up and down my skin.
His hands roamed over every inch of my burning skin, over my arms, stomach and shoulders. Spider's hands stopped, poking a finger under my top. His hands were cold, sending shivers over my chest and neck.
Sliding his hand through, he pulled the top to the side and over my head. The leaves tickled my skin, sliding slowly with his movements. His eyes examined his hands, running over the new exposed skin. Taking in each new inch. Sliding his hands over my breasts, feeling them for the first time.