Perfect Flaws

35. Perfectly Addicted

His hands continue to roam my body, his fingertips tease the tips of my breasts, lightly but powerfully grazing over them.

My mind is everywhere, my brain is completely drugged up of him, I'm addicted to his voice, the way it engraves itself into my ears. I'm addicted to his hands, how rough they are, how they tell a story of every person he's killed, completely holding me as if I'm his.

My mind is racing to get an ounce of whatever he's giving, waiting eagerly to react for him, to arch into him.

"Oh come on, where's that fiery attitude? Those sharp words you throw at me, where's your voice? Don't tell me you're at a loss for words now. Tell. Me. How. Perfect. You. Are," he kisses my throat in between every word.

Suddenly, he stops.

My heartbeat is alarmingly pounding in my ears, my face is flushed and burning like I'm above a fire.

His kisses leave my body, and so do his hands.

I want to scream at him to continue, to beg him to put his hands on me and continue to kiss me until his lips are bruised, until my body has purple marks scattered about.

But I'm stubborn, and I can't give in to his satisfaction.

"I won't do anything until you tell me how flawlessly perfect you are," he whispers.

His strikingly blazing eyes gaze into mine, as he holds himself over me.

Without permission, my hand suddenly reaches out, caressing his cheek. His breath becomes shaky, unsteadily waiting for me.

I reach around to the back of his neck and pull him close to me, letting myself graze my lip against his, "I'm absolutely fucking perfect."

He smiles against my lips, letting a breathy laugh escape.

"Such a good girl," he murmurs, letting his lips crash onto mine. His hands hook under my thighs, making me wrap my legs around his waist as he brings his fingers back up to my jaw. His hold is passionate, and possessive, but so incredibly gentle.

Knots form inside my stomach, doubling as I become more aware of our bodies, how each part is perfectly aligned against each other.

"Fuck, you have no idea how turned on I am right now," he groans into my lips, continuing to kiss me.

He presses himself further into me, letting me feel how hard he is against my skin.

I gasp, lightly laughing, "I think I can take a guess-," his lips devour mine in an instant. He doesn't even mind when the sheets fall off of him, exposing himself to the cold air.

His full attention is on me and it's incredibly empowering in the way he's getting lost in kissing me, touching me.

I reach out for him, instead he grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head as he digs them deep into the sheets. His lips trail down my collarbone until he reaches my breasts. His mouth roams across my skin. Kissing, licking, sucking, teasing, and nipping.

He doesn't care to stop, the more noises I make, the more it pushes him to experiment on what he likes, what I like.

The last time we did this, I had power over him. I was above him, but he's showing himself now.

I'm letting him take the lead, letting him touch me how he wants, and I'm enjoying it.

I have no intention in stopping him.

The sight of him above me is incredible. His eyes trained on mine while he keeps me restrained by his hands.

The weight of his waist digging into mine. The clashing temperatures of the cold air and his burning skin is complete ecstasy, sending waves of pleasure all throughout my body.