I walk toward the tall doors of the house. I mumble a curse at my boots. They seemed like a good choice, but apparently they're not that comfortable after a few hours of dancing.
Because they were just that—a couple of hours, not an eternity as it had seemed.
I pull out my keys, but I laugh when they slip off me and fall to the floor.
I bend down, picking them up, reminding myself that keys are useless against the fingerprint that then asks for a code.
I laugh.
"Young," I turn, smiling at the stature of the black-haired guy.
Ian walks over to me, grabbing my purse that's on the floor.
His eyes collide with mine, and I wonder if he can hear the sound of my heart.
My eyes fall to his jaw, to the small mole he has.
My mouth opens, wondering what it would feel like to plant a kiss on that mole.
My fingers think the same because my hand reaches up to touch that little mole with my thumb.
Ian doesn't pull away; his eyes are still fixed on my face, his body instinctively moving closer to mine.
I wobble a little as I try to move closer to him. Ian puts his hand on my waist, giving me all the stability I need.
My fingers travel from his jaw to his cheek, feeling my fingers tickle as they collide with his long lashes.
I blink, not believing how handsome he is. How handsome I always thought he was. How far away I feel him from me, even with him just inches away.
"It's not fair that your eyelashes are longer than mine," I say with a small grimace.
"I can give them to you if you want, Young." His smirk makes me look away from his eyelashes.
"What will you do without them?" I asked, focusing on his beautiful smile.
"My beauty will survive." His words amuse me.
Ian lifts his free hand, placing it on my lower back.
We fall silent. I look up, taking a deep breath, when I notice his eyes on my lips.
My hand falls, staying on his arm.
My mouth opens, but the words seem foreign to his presence, to our mingled breaths, and to our closeness.
"Young. " His voice sounds husky, coming out as a question or a plea.
"Mmm?" His eyes travel to mine, and I blink at his attention.
"I want to kiss you." The sound of my heart reaches my ears. "Tell me not to."
It sounds more like a command, but his everything is still pleading.
My hand comes up again, my fingers entwined with the hair at the crook of his neck.
Ian stops breathing as my hand pulls him closer to me.
I sigh as I feel his lips on mine, my free hand finding the other, pulling him closer to me, bringing him as close as our bodies will allow.
Ian growls slightly as our tongues meet. My legs tremble a little, but Ian's grip grows stronger.
We separated for air, our chests rising and falling at the same time.
My cheeks heat up, and I put my fingers over my slightly swollen lips, trying to keep my smile from appearing.
I open the door behind me, taking Ian's hand.
The guy doesn't take his gaze off my face, but his eyes drop slightly as I grab the tie of my shirt and untie it, slowly enjoying the change in his gaze.
I walk backwards, up the stairs.
Ian is not far behind.
I let go of his hand, receiving a small groan from him, but dropped the blouse, leaving only the lacy black bra.
Ian's jaw tenses, each step up firmer than the last.
The sound of the zipper on my skirt fills the silent house.
The guy's breath hitches as the black fabric falls to the floor of the stairs.
I smile, feeling his gaze on my matching black lingerie as if on a hot trail.
I reach the bottom of the stairs without realizing it.
I swallow thickly as Ian arrives as well, he far surpasses me with his height, my boots being somewhere on the side of the stairs.
The black-haired man cups my cheeks, pressing our lips together.
My back hits the wall, and I grab his shirt, turning a little, guiding us to my room without taking our lips apart.
I open the door.
Ian separates his face from mine, wanting to look around the room, but now it's my hands that take his face.
I close the door behind me, leaving the room illuminated only by the lights coming from the garden through the sliding glass door to the balcony.
I push Ian onto the bed, where he falls into a sitting position.
I move away from him, taking the time to see what's in front of me.
My chest rises and falls, my mind has never been clearer than it is now. Seeing him, sitting on my white sheets in his black clothes.
His breathing just as agitated. His fingers are playfully gripping the sheets as if holding back as I stand there, alone in lingerie, in front of him.
His gaze meets my eyes, then roams over me the same way I roam over him.
Ian reaches out a hand, placing it on the back of my thigh and pulling me to him.
I try not to tremble as I move closer to him, standing between his legs.
His hands are placed on my waist with a carefulness as if he fears of breaking me. His fingers slowly move down until they reach the level of my underwear.
My lips open slightly at the touch.
Ian kisses my chin, a small, wet kiss that makes me moan. His hands reach behind my thighs, pulling me closer and closer.
He traces a path of kisses from my chin to my neck, kissing my collarbone. My hands go to his shoulders, trying to steady myself as much as I can.
I groan when his lips stop kissing me. I meet his eyes and nearly lose my mind at the sight of his flushed cheeks.
"Have you already—?"
"Yes." I reply, barely in a whisper.
His fingers trail down the back of my neck, his thumb is on my chin, lightly touching my lips.
A shiver runs through my body.
Torture. This is fucking torture.
His big grin tells me he knows it very well.
His finger presses against my bottom lip, demanding I open it for him. I moan as I feel his tongue playing with mine.
His free hand pinches my thigh, inviting me to sit on his legs. I do, feeling pressure in my crotch.
My moan is lost between our breaths.
Ian parts his lips, when I want to kiss him again, he pulls away a few inches.
"Are you sure about—?"
"Yes." I growled, pressing our lips together.
I feel the guy's laughter between kisses.
His hands traveled to my back to undo my bra.
I moan at the feel of my breasts against his jacket. That's when I remember that he has too many clothes. Too much.
Between kisses, Ian helps me undress him. His clothes fell somewhere in the room.
My desperate hands go to his pants, but when I fail to unbuckle his damn belt, I growl, pulling our lips apart. But Ian growls back, lifting my face, pulling our lips together, as if the separation is unbearable.
Ian uses a hand to lift me up, turning me over dropping me on the bed.
The kiss seems more desperate, more needy.
Ian growls against my lips before pulling away from me, only to unbutton his belt, almost tearing it before pulling down his pants.
But he stops, just a few seconds, as he looks down at me on the bed, breasts in the air and eyes as wild as he has.
"Fuck." His voice comes out low, no more than a growl.
Ian falls on top of me, his hand behind my neck, bringing our lips together once more.
I sigh at the feel of him—nothing but our underwear between us.
He lifts himself up for a few seconds, taking me with him over his knees, parting our lips to pull something out of his pants pocket.
He brings our lips together, laying us down again. His hands go to my underwear, slowly moving down, tossing them around like everything else.
"Fuck, Young." he sighs.
I moan as I feel his cool fingers at my entrance.
The wetness of my center allows him to enter without a problem—one finger, then two.
My mind goes blank, savoring the waves of pleasure coursing through my entire body.
Unable to keep up with the play of his lips, I drop my head, giving him free rein for his lips to meet my neck.
I place my hand over my lips, trying to quiet my moans as Ian's fingers slowly drive me into madness.
"Let me hear you." His growl comes with a small nibble on my lobe, his thumb finding just the right spot to make me roll my eyes.
Ian's lips travel down my chest, down to kiss one of my nipples.
Feeling a slight suction, I cry out, feeling such great pressure below—pressure that I will explode at any moment.
Ian notices because his movements start to get faster and stronger.
Ian presses our lips together, silencing my scream as I reach my orgasm.
My legs tremble, my chest rises and falls.
"Open your eyes, Young; we're not done yet." His lips crash against mine, and a surge of pleasure washes over me again.