For a moment it felt as though he would push away, refuse me, leave me out on the four steps with empty hands and burning pants.
"Cyrus," I grinned into his ear, "don't go. Please stay."
When he did shift beneath me, though I heard his hot moan in my ear and felt him lean into me as much as I pushed him against the wall, I gripped his hips. My palms rubbed circles into his skin. "You don't want to leave anyway."
It earned another moan.
"Cyrus," I laughed over his shoulder, though really I wanted to growl and slam him against the floor, "can I take that room now?" I really did need to get in now. Inside. Inside of him.
And now hands were on me. All over me- was his will so weak? Now I wanted to slam him down and hurt him like the weak thing he was becoming beneath my hands.
"I need a name first," he smiled uneasily, like he was smarter than me.
Ah, naughty.
I looped my fingers inside his belt, lifted him and threw him down and backwards into the house. It's door slammed shut behind me. I was so hard and ready for him.
And Cyrus stared up, hurt, surprised when I put my feet either side of his splayed and open legs.
"So I'll teach it to you."
YOU ARE READING
Creepy Boy.
Teen FictionEveryday on the way home, a boy stops by the coffee shop. Everyday he orders the same thing, to eat in and watch one of the employers. It's not unconscious, and he knows it's not unnoticeable. He'll allow them to remain strangers only as long as it...
