icarusalsoflew: (where the air i breathe is mine.)
Hikaru Shinta ([personal profile] icarusalsoflew) wrote 2015-04-16 12:01 pm (UTC)

[ He indulges you in that: he even opens his mouth, all narrowed eyes and an amused noise in his throat, but he does not move any closer. He looks on as you spread yourself out again, following his wishes without a second thought.

He had a good view of the souvenirs he had left for you last night, on the front: your swollen and bruised lips, the hickeys on your neck, that bite mark on one shoulder, the rope burns around your wrists and ankles, and the bruises on your chest, your rib cage. There are more bruises along your back, and the diagonal scratch of his nails down your shoulder blades.

He really, really likes you this way. He also likes the fact that you took his words that he had growled out in your ear about this to hear, hours before, when there hadn't been anything else but the shadows in his room and his body to cover you as he had gotten you off with his fingers.

"Don't make any of these disappear. I don't care if anyone sees them. You're mine, love. mine." ]


Spread your legs a little wider, close your eyes, and open your mouth.

[ He sounds dreadfully, dangerously calm. He also hasn't moved an inch, hasn't gotten close to you. ]

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