Sin With Me; One Night with the Bully

Fires on Skin

I turned to him slowly, my lips parting against his skin from just how close we were, my mind finally finding a bit of ease after the hours of self torment. He met my eyes without leaning away, the intensity turning my stomach to mush, my body immediately catching unto the waves of desire and restrained lust, and something purer helmed between the two.

My hand gently moved, and my fingers pushed through his hair, and then through his neck, my eyes darting slowly across both of his.

"I was worried," I admitted in a slow whisper, my chest heaving. "I was worried you would hate me."

He let his thumb run over the edge of my lips. "It would be impossible to hate you, Roxanne."

"I want to believe you."

"You should," he said, his eyes leaving mine for a few steady seconds to settle on my lips. "You should believe me. I haven't said words that I believe more, either."

"Why?" I asked, my eyes flicking up to him again. "Why me?"

His lips lifted up in a small smile. A smile that did not reach his eyes because those colours swirled already towards all of the vortices that fed on my emotions.

"Why not you, Roxanne?"

I bit down on my lips as he let his fingers caress my face, his breaths hot against me. I looked down at myself, then met his eyes, my chest heaving hard.

"Are you going to look at me?"

He didn't reply but slowly leaned away, his eyes taking my skin in. My hands gently fell off his shoulders, and I grabbed the sheets. I have never felt so anxious having anyone watch me before this, but here I was, wishing he would offer me a key into his mind so I could know, truly, that he found me as beautiful as his eyes suggested.

I met his eyes briefly, and the swirls of different colours in each eye did not help my heightening belief that despite what had just happened, he still found me beautiful. That everything he had said was true and that his emotions were naked in his eyes.

Suddenly, he covered the distance again, his hand gently massaging the edge of my waist, his lips leaving slow, treacherous kisses on my shoulder.

"Can I?"

I knew exactly what he was thinking, and hell be frozen over if that wasn't exactly what I wanted to. I immediately nodded, and without a word, he wrapped his hand around my bare back, then pulled me into his arms, my legs crossed over his, my upper body resting in his arms. My eyes met his, and I felt my breath hitch in my throat.

Everything in his eyes suggested I was playing a dangerous game, but I needed the tough love only he could give me right now.

My eyes closed as he gently pulled down the side zipper of my skirt, and my legs immediately felt a bit more air on them.

My chest felt heavy and light at the same time, as the skirt fell away from my legs, and I was almost bare in his hands. Just almost. It wasn't enough. I wanted to be completely bare.

I looked up, and he was still watching me, his eyes darting across my body in stealthy, long glances, but his eyes meeting my face often, as if he was watching for the slightest nit of discomfort so he could stop.

I sucked in a sharp breath and thanked the heavens when he didn't find that discomfort, and his hands gently caressed the lacy edge of the last bit of underwear I still had on.

I remember the last time he had done that. The first time he had taken me. The first time, I had taken anyone in fact.

"I am glad you had my first time," I whispered, letting go of my inhibitions. I have never said this to him as my world had spiralled right out of control the next morning, but I wished he would know.

"Are you?" He asked as he leaned, kissing my collar bone, and he pulled the lace down. It soon came off, and I let out a sigh, my hands wrapping around him as he let his slow, gentle kisses run down my neck to the tops of my chest.

"Yes. I am glad it was you. Not anyone else."

He smiled against my skin. "How do you feel about your first being your last?"

I held my breath. "As long as it is you."

"You are just saying that, sweetie." His hands went beneath my legs, and he pulled me up, then slowly walked towards the bathroom.

The bath was heavenly, with roses and lavender, a table put across, with wine, a few chocolates, and a tablet set up.

He gently put me in the water, and I threw my head back, the warmth seeping into my bones. He came behind me, his hands gently running down from my shoulder to my arms, his face gently moving in between my neck, kissing slowly, making me feel the heat I needed more than anything.

"Florian," I said, my chest heaving.

He pulled away for a short moment before he stood up and grabbed a few hair products. They were exactly the ones I used, and he assembled them outside the bath.

"How do you feel?"

I swallowed, my heart thumping in my chest, my second heart, however, thumping even faster and louder.

"Desired."

He chuckled as he leaned to kiss my skin again, his hands running down to my stomach, and then my inner thighs, his lips leaving small, beautiful marks all over my neck and shoulders.

"You said you wanted to watch something."

I nodded, my mind vaguely remembering how I wanted to watch Damien suffer while I took a bath. Come to think of it, this bath looked to be just that.

My eyes widened as Florian moved from behind me, then put on the tablet. A video immediately came on, and I say there, my eyes wide.

Florian came back to me, his hands gently running down my skin, his face right next to mine.

The video slowly panned into a large fire, with scantily dressed women running around and being taken into police vans. The fire was large, but I soon made out the surroundings.

It was filled with reporters, police, people running around, and bystanders, but I knew exactly where it was. Dirty dreams.

I couldn't even bring myself to take my eyes off the video despite how much I wanted to turn to Florian so he could confirm if it was really true.

Suddenly, the video panned into a stretcher that was being taken into an ambulance. My eyes widened as the video and I could make out the face. Damien.

He was screaming, naked, his body carrying large patches of open wounds.

I turned to Florian, and he was smiling at the video, his eyes dark. He looked like he could make angels weep at that moment.

Slowly, he met my eyes, and his hand slowly cupped my cheek. He leaned in, his lips gently parting mine, his tongue lightly dancing around with mine.

When he broke the kiss, I was breathless and for more than one reason.

"Is that good enough for you, sweetheart?"