Kian Lawley Imagines

breakfast;17

"Kian...", you whine, as he pecks your neck.

You were cooking in the kitchen. Your body faces away from him yet he hovers over you. His abs pressed against your bare back.

"Take a break.", he begs.

"Kian, the place will burn down if I don't finish-"

"Then, put it on pause or something-"

"Pause? Really?", you say, making him laugh.

"Come on.", he turns your body around and now you two are facing each other.

Stomach to stomach. Chest to chest. You were wearing a bra and some sweatpants. It was 4 am.

"Kian," you say, he leans into your neck, pecking your collar bones, "we will miss our flight and leaving on an empty stomach."

"I won't leave on an empty stomach.", he says, lightly stroking your heat.

"Right now, Kian, really?", you ask.

"Please?", he begs.

"Kian-"

He doesn't even let you finish, his hands were gripping your ass, lips crashed onto yours. He moves his hands down to your thighs, picking you up and turning you around. He walked a little bit to get to the kitchen island before setting you down.

Your arms around his neck, as you fell for the trap.

He firmly grasps your thigh with his left hand and places his right hand on the right side of your neck pulling you closer.

Things heat up and you begin to light stroke his heat.

He lightly groans and throws his head back, you took the chance to kiss his neck.

He lightly laughed, "What?", you asked.

"Nothing.", he says, looking back down at you, "I'm just so damn lucky to have you."

You giggle, "Shut up."

"Can we-"

"No," you say, jumping off the island, "I need to make you something to eat and then we'll leave for the flight."

You walk back to the stove, he smacks your ass and asks, "Alright then."