Page 102 of Tortured Eyes
"Charming. Such a Lothario."
That's me. Might even manage to think about living together with more clarity,as and when we work out how this is going to move forward. I look down at her, still keeping my hands well away. It's damn hard, but she hasn't given me permission yet, and I'm waiting until she does. For once.
"Any chance of a reaction here?" she says, trailing those hands again. "I'm feeling like you're not interested, which is a turnaround from all that loveliness you've been spouting."
"Your hands are in the wrong place. My dick is far more interested than my back. But either way, I'm waiting for permission." Her lips twitch, gaze dropping down to my pants.
"I've got to say the actual words?"
"Yes. And be ready after you have. I'll never ask for it again. Might drop your ass on the ground and go feral immediately."
She laughs lightly and comes up on her toes, just enough reach in her to get to my lips and look me face on. No words, though. Still. Instead, she keeps gazing, tilting her head about and trying to get her stare as far into me as she can. She needn't bother. She's imprinted. Lodged in there, buried deep. How, or why, I still can't fathom, but here she is, something beautiful finding me in the wake of sorrow and pain. Hers and mine.
"I give you permission to want me," she eventually whispers.
I've swept her legs from beneath her and dropped her on the sand before she takes another breath, my arm bracing her fall and my lips on hers. That'll do for me. The rest? What comes next? We'll find out in due course. Damn sure I'm gonna work hard for it, though.
Damn sure she'll probably hurt me, too.
But that's fine by me.
I probably deserve it.
