A/N: (Try to) Enjoy, love(s).
She feels a hand abruptly over her mouth, instantly arousing her from a disturbing sleep.
"Don't scream," a rich, soothing, familiar male voice whispers in her ear, reluctantly, instantly quickening her heartbeat.
A dark chuckle escapes his ohso perfect lips as his wandering hand detect the rush of adrenaline in her system and the warming flush on her skin, where the cloud-shrouded stars lit up both their skin and his way, dragging her along in the cloak of the moonless night. She stumbles, so used to high heels and not her bare feet. He growls in her ear and she smirks at his agigation. His roaming hands temporarily leave her body to open the heavy metal door and she lets him think she misses the heat of his touch with a light whimper. The light shines in the hallway, reflecting off her raven hair before he quickly grabs her fragile hand with his rough, calloused one and she notices him putting him put his thin shirt in a weak attempt to stop the confessional camera to not record what was about to happen.
"Why did you drag me here?" she asks defensively, while putting her hands on her thin hips.
"I thought you would know by now, babe. I know that you want me too," he says with a smirk that shows off his white teeth.
"Whatever. Keep telling yourself that. Now, if you excuse me, I'm going back to sleep," she replies, with her concieted attitude overcoming the groginess she suffers from in the dimly lit room. She begins to walk away, ignoring the coldness of the metal slowly sinking into her pampered feet. He grabs her miniature forearm with his tanned hands.
"Come on, you know you want me," he says huskily, with his emerald eyes smoldering, melting her frigid grey ones.
"Fuck you," she snarls in a harsh tone, struggling against his strong grip, reaching for the handle on the freezing, monochromatic door. A plan starts forming in her head, then.
"Right now would be ideal," he purrs, bringing her hand to his obvious erection through his pajama pants.
"Get off me!" she screams, struggling for her hand to be freed, knowing he'll only want her more.
"Never," he whispers huskily, taking her other other hand and putting it behind her back, along with the other that was just touching his hard-on, holding both of her hands with his gentle hands.
She acts like she's fighting the urge to moan, but lets it echo around the small room.
"Proved you wrong, didn't I," he whispers, exactly one inch away from her lips, with his breath mixing and mingling with hers.
"Shut up and kiss me," she says, with frigid iron eyes filled with false lust.
He kisses her roughly, the taste of tangerines and mint invading her mouth. An unseen smirk rests on her lips as she lifts
her leg, subtly knocking off his shirt, the neon, glowing red light on the camera on, indicating it's on. Her petite leg wraps around his muscled waist, and he is quick to grab her ass and lift the other around his body, and push her against the wall. She gives a false moan, rolling her eyes before placing feather kisses on his perfectly sculpted neck and collarbone before he stops her by lifting up her chin and biting softly at the fine, unblemished skin on her neck.
She gives another fake, calculated moan and pushes her chest up against his chiseled chin. He gets the hint and pushes her skimpy shirt down before taking a pink nipple in his moth. His tongue brushes against it as he gently sucks on it. Her lips become parted and her breaths become labored as she realizes she actually enjoys his attention as he moves to pay attention to her right nipple, leaving the other one wanting his mouth again.
She lifts his head back up, her perfectly manicured hands intertwined in his brunette hair, rolling her eyes at his closed ones and slipping her tongue in his mouth, tasting the signature tangerine-and-mint taste he has. He pulls away.
"Behave, sweetie," he says, with his breath labored and jade eyes, harshly ruined with dilated pupils that only spoke of lust.
"Well then you be patient, honey," she replies, with malice dripping off of the pet name.
"No chance of that, sweetheart," he whispers, about to bring his fine, dusky lips to her swollen rose-colored ones, before she pushes him back, fake nails digging into his flawless chest.
"Tell that to the camera, baby," she seductively purrs, pressing her lips to his again before taking her hands from his now-cut chest and pulling her top up.
"Good night, Alejandro. Absolutely wonderful time," she smirks, disentangles her small legs from his waist and walks out, the slamming sound of the metal door reverberating around the confessional booth now. He looks at the spot she was in, cinereal eyes shining with what he thought was lust, and smooth midnight hair sticking to her forehead from sweat, just seconds ago. He laughs darkly, shaking his head.
"Good one, Heather," he says to the camera, the bubblegum-and-temptation taste of her still in his mouth, like a bitter aftertaste of something sweet. He grabs his shirt off of the filthy, freezing floor and put it back on, sweat making the cotton fabric stick to his tanned, lustful skin.
"Clever bitch," he says, shaking his head, once again, while running his hands through his smooth, soft russet hair, wondering how he could possibly get revenge.
Touch it...
Feel it...
Satisfy it...
Oh yeah...
Right there...
So good...
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