(SE) running red lights

i wanted to be ruined —

a little more than i wanted

— to be loved

It was a bit of feigned confidence, and even if it wasn’t one to be memorable, she at least couldn’t deny the fact that she would remember. Perhaps the next time when she wasn’t so touch starved, wasn’t so hungry for something that hadn’t happened in a year, she might be more playful. As it stood now, however, she was burning.

Especially more so as his hand dips below the band of her pants, searching and seeking and finding, a shudder slipping down her spine as he strokes her and finds just how ready she is. Her skin is flushed, hints of red patching up with the hitch of her breath, the hand that aims to grasp and tangle and pull at the dark hair it’s within. But she lets him have his game, despite her overwhelming desire of ridding herself of the pants that trap her and him, of nearly begging him to drown her, to bury himself into her.

He wouldn’t hear it anyway. So she shudders beneath the touch, whimpers and whines leaving her throat, trying to keep herself from grinding against his hand and failing miserably with it. He’s winning the game right now, putty in his hands to be molded however he wished with a promise of sating her desire.

KIADA