Konig's fingers curled the cold metal presenting himself to the outside world. Thoughts of you swirled in his mind violently--they did every night.
But it was something about seeing you with your curls elongated down your spine just before you gathered every strand into your fist, wrapping it around the clothed band he lent you that sent him into a downward spiral.
"You don't know what you do to me..."
Something so small intensified the compulsions he developed for you. His imagination no longer able to satisfy his deep rooted need for you. He walked the quiet halls, hands in his pockets until he reached your door.
It was routine for him, although he had never entered the cube of your privacy. His nerves always got the better of him. Instead he would just press his ear adjacent to the wooden frame and listened to your heavy snores.
"tonight.."
Tonight, he had plans to break that boundary he set for himself. His palm slowly pushed the handle downward. A gentle click of the metals releasing the frame between him and his view of you.
A crack in the door, he engulfed the opening only a small beam of light peaked between his calves, it traveled until it climbed the frame of your bed and illuminated your features. He gazed over your pretty little face, your lashes folded together in harmony, those pink lips parted as you exhaled.
Tank top slightly rolled up exposing your navel, legs tangled in your sheets. Your arms nestled under your plush pillow.
"My god.." His head shook in silence at your beauty.
His eyes widened with panic when yours twitched, rubbing your noses with your fingers and shifting away from him. A part of him wanted you to catch him, to want him in the same way he wanted you.
Why couldn't you just be his? Then he wouldn't have to sneak here every night.
His head tilted at the sight of the skin of your lower back. Tongue running along his lips, wetting them at the indentations of the dimples that situated on each side of your spine. Captivated by how the sheets bunched at the arch of your ass.
With your curls held loosely in the band he gave you days before. He slid though the small crack he created in the frame, turning and closing the door as slowly as possible.
Taking 2 along strides to the bed towering you. Closing his eyes to your scent ripping through his nose, it added to the thrill. To be this close was driving him insane, feeling the restraint breaking.
"Just one touch.."
His hand reached out, desperately wanting to feel the silk of your skin. Held back by a gut feeling that advised against going to far. You adjusted your body, your hips swaying slightly to get more comfortable. A soft moan escaping your lips from the way the bed seemed to hug you as you continued to drift deeper in your sleep.
He felt the pit of his stomach stiffen at the waves of your curves from just the slightest of movement. The same waves he envisioned when his hips crashed against the back of your flesh. He imagined those curves crashing back on him after each stroke, more harsher moans escaping those lips than the one just before.
His eyes rolled at the thought, length twitched with excitement, teeth dig into his lips and they redden as a result. It's what caused him to reach down and curl his gloved finger under the band to slide it down your curls.
He brought it to his nose, inhaling deeply to the smell of vanilla. It's intoxicating, enough for his hand to brush over his hardened length. It provided temporary relief from the restraint of his cargos.
"Fuck.."
He exhaled biting his lips once more while taking a final look, engraving every inch of you in folders he'll have to sort through later. He quietly turned and left, pulling the metal handle slowly until a gentle click was heard.
"Until next time my pretty thing."
You rubbed your eyes, pressing your palms on your bedding to gaze at your door. A visible shadow under the thin opening under your door disappearing.
Your eyebrows furrowing, a thump in your chest at the sight. You toss the sheets and rush to the door, yanking it open. Your head darting left and right, to an empty hall.
König was long gone before you made your way into the hall. The rubber band tangled between his fingers, loose strands of your hair knotted in the center.
He rested on his mattress, back flush against the plush fabric of the bedding. He gazed over the band, a small piece of you he'd hold close until it could be replaced with something else; or you.
His hand moved to the circular button holding the pulsating bulge against its will. Fingers tugging on the thin fabric of his boxers freeing his length. The heaviness of it not allowing it to sit up no matter how hard it throbbed for you.
Fingers curling around it tightly, his own hand not large enough to accommodate the thickness. He slowly stoked the tip before rotating his wrist and sliding it down to the base. His free hand maneuvering the band, thumb caressing the tangled bunch of your hair.
He closed his eyes, the image of you bent over spread wide with his hand sliding down the arch of your back, pushing your chest into the sheets as he drives deeper.
"Fuck..Y/N." He slowed his stroke, his length pulling —swelling at the base as pleasure shot to the tip. He began to pant, hips bucking in motion with thoughts of his hips crashing against the back of your curves. Watching as the force produced ripples through out your skin.
"God..." His lips hung, jaw lowered—chest moving frantically, attempting to keep himself under control. The image he created in his mind was to real for him to hold back.
His hand slid further up your back until his fingers reached your long curls and he wrapped your hair tight around his wrist until his knuckles were pressed firmly to your scalp.
He pulled your hair, forcing your head back as far as it could go. Pushing himself deeper as he imagined your moans, your lips curling when he moaned to you clenching around him.
"Fuck.." Switching hands, feeling the wad of strands graze his sensitive skin. He then took the hair tie and glided it down his shaft until it reached the base—twisted the band until his length swelled, pulse beating strongly through each vein.
The sheer pressure that built shattered the strength he had to hold the orgasm he so desperately needed.
"Y/N... I'm—" His breath hitched in his throat—thighs trembled. Hips bucked into his hand as he reached his orgasm, creamy liquid oozed out of him. The image of filling you prolonged his orgasm, cumming a second time, although short lived—it took all his energy.
His hands flopped on the bed, breathless--chest heaving until he came down with length softening, resting over his hip. Lids heavy with relief as he drifts to sleep.
Just... be mine already.
