Chapter Six :: Drunk Enough To Dance
…
Papyrus left early that morning for his usual mundane human-hunting duties, leaving Sans completely alone in the house with only you and his thoughts for company.
He waits patiently for you in the lounge. He's sitting nearly on the edge of the sofa with his thumbs fidgeting against each other. His head is ducked down with his vacant gaze staring distantly at the ground. He's consumed with thoughts of you. His skull is lightly tinged with deep cyan colours as his thoughts bring up the image of you over and over again. His imagination is relentless, and his memory is crystal clear. He swallows harshly as he feels his mouth run dry. It's been three times now that he's seen your bare flesh, accentuating his lust as your figure proves to be everything he imagined. It's been twice now that he's seen you caked in sweat, crying out his name as you deliver yourself to the gates of paradise with your liquid fingers. It's been too many times, and not enough times all at once.
Sans tries to mentally scold himself to not let himself go like that again. He lost control of his senses, he went against his better judgement and allowed you to overpower him until he was completely obliterated from the mere sight of you. He lost the game, he lost outright… but in turn, he found out that you had lost at your own game as well.
…why else would you be calling out my name, and only my name… when you touch yourself like that and make that face?
Your face repeats like a broken record in his mind, singing the same old tune. He remembers it all so clearly – the sprinkled blood red colour rising to your cheeks as sweat runs down your temples… the messy spirals of your hair as it clings to your form… the shape of your mouth as you purse your lips, breathing in heavy sighs as you sound out the moans bubbling in your throat… and your eyes, always so heavy-lidded, spelling out the deeply-seated lust that you carry every time you look at him, and him alone…
Suddenly, the click on your bedroom door rips through the air like a loud echo, and Sans' head snaps up as his eyes draw to you walking casually along the floorboards. He withdraws his wanton tongue, dismisses his shameless thoughts and readily jumps to his feet. He can't see you fully until you reach the flight of stairs, and as you descend, Sans once again feels his mouth run dry…
It's the loose blue shirt you wore the night before. This time, it's buttoned halfway, creating a deep neckline over your cleavage, and the oversized material draping over your shoulders reveals a good portion of your torso. At first, his spiralling thoughts makes him believe that you wore nothing below the hem, as the image of you from the night before cemented torturously in his mind, until you bury your hand over your hair so that your shirt lifts higher over your thighs to reveal the denim shorts resting over your hips. Sans lets out an exhausted breath of relief as he internally yells at himself once more to get a grip.
You push up the sleeves of the shirt over to your elbows as you approach him with a carefree smile.
"Ready to go?" Your voice is calmer than you really are as you see how Sans' vacant gaze slowly returns the white pinpricks in his empty sockets. It's as if he's desperately trying to overcome the primal side of him, like the split personality of Jekyll and Hyde. And eventually, his rational side wins as his casual bright smile returns to his face.
"Yup, I'm ready. C'mon then… let's get off."
Your eyes widen suddenly at the phrasing of his words, and your heartbeat runs a mile a minute as he passes you a lazy wink before he turns on his heels towards the door. Then your breath is caught in your throat as you realise – he said it like that on purpose. You guess that he doesn't have a complete handle on his rational side just yet.
You smirk with interest as you follow after him. You find it'll be fun to find out the limits of his restraints, and you wonder just how interesting this morning will be. And you feel the remnants of your relief from the shower curl deliciously between your legs from the thought alone.
...
Sans holds the door open for you as you slowly enter Grillby's. It's slightly darkened with only a few wall-mounted lanterns giving light to the room, whilst the emanating light coming from the fiery barman behind the bar illuminates the far side of the room. The atmosphere is cosy and warm, contradicting the icy cold weather right outside, and there's an overwhelming sense of hospitality hanging in the air. It's almost as if you can already attribute the sensation of entering the bar to the feeling of returning back home.
But it doesn't last long as the monsters instantly meet your gaze with a cold fear in their eyes. It seems that the word has finally gone around that a human being is living amongst them, and it's spread like wildfire as sudden nervous chatters fill up the room. You shiver from the sudden hostility as you almost step back to retreat into yourself. You feel as if you've just walked into a trap with no escape, and you're cornered into the world of terrifying enemies who will not hesitate to tear your soul apart.
Suddenly, you feel slender fingers slide past the back of your neck, and you breathe steadily as you find Sans resting his hand over your shoulder. Almost instantly, you feel your nerves calming down, but only slightly. He can see how much distress you're in, and you see his patient smile light up his expression as he leads you towards the bar on the far side of the room. As you walk past the busy booths and crowded tables, you're met with curious eyes as they follow your every movement. It's as if you've been put on display for everyone to see, and your presence alone emanates an intimidating air, when in reality you're simply wracked with nerves.
As you slide on to a barstool, in between Sans and another worried looking monster, you slightly duck your head down as your shoulders rise, and you turn to Sans as you keep yourself close. You feel the safest when you're with him.
"You should relax a bit. If you show that you're nervous, you'll only put everyone else on edge." Sans says simply as he nonchalantly waves to the barman.
"That's… much easier said than done." You say as you somehow feel the eyeless fiery barman closely inspect you as he approaches, "Will anyone try to start a fight?"
"Only if you do."
The moment he says this, a small spark of glowing blue flames suddenly flickers in his socket as a small warning to you. But you fail to be intimidated as you lean forward to rest your chin in your hand, and you flash him a slightly shaken lewd smile as you begin to calm down.
"I'll make sure not to start any trouble." You say quietly, your eyes tracing the callous structure of his hands whilst he gestures to the barman to order some drinks. And your lips purse together in disdain, "We'll just have to see how good the food is here. If it's not up to the standards of your brother's cooking, then who knows how unpredictable my reactions will be…"
At that second, Sans ferociously turns himself to you as if he is more than ready to strike. You can tell he didn't appreciate that comment, at all. He's facing you head on as the white pupils in his eyes dissipate into the dark voids. His smile never falters, but you can see his clear anger flaring in the shadows of his eyes as he's almost looking down on you. You stare in wide-eyed shock as you momentarily forgot the serious nature of your infiltration to the underground. Funny, you find, that you easily let the fact that your human slip from your mind.
But, Sans eventually withdraws himself as he takes a step back on to his stool, and closes his eyes as he regains his composure. Then you suddenly hear him chuckling under his breath,
"I don't think you should set your standards so high. I mean, finding anything better than my brother's spaghetti is damn near im-pasta-ble!"
You stare blankly at him, and wince your eyes at the sheer dreadfulness of his joke. And after a few silent moments pass, Sans grabs the bottle of ketchup from the barman's hands and laughs to himself with a dismissive wave of his hand,
"Y'know, you're a real tough audience to please, pal."
"I wouldn't say that. Maybe it's just your horrendous timing." You say with a grateful wink to the barman as he passes you a glass of water, and you hover the drink next to your mouth as you subtly glance back to him through the corner of your heavily-lidded eye, "And I wouldn't at all say you have a hard time pleasing me, Sans…"
The sultry tone in your voice goes completely unnoticed as Sans casually shrugs his shoulders from beneath his large jacket, and his grip on the ketchup bottle tightens.
"Oh, trust me. I do. After all, you haven't laughed at a single one of my jokes thus far."
Your eyes widen as you begin to realise this yourself. Every bad pun that he's thrown at you, every joke that he's told to someone else with you nearby, you haven't managed to laugh even once… not even a pity smile. You wonder if it's because you didn't find the jokes very funny, or if the puns simply aren't your sense of humour, but slowly you begin to realise… you keep yourself at a very clear distance from him. Sans is down to Earth, he's so chilled out all the time, and when he's not being wound up by you, he's generally just a nice bloke all around. So… why haven't you been able to laugh at a single one of his jokes? Why haven't you at least flashed him a smile out of charity? Why are you keeping yourself so barricaded from his attempts at making you laugh?
Suddenly, a dreadful flush falls over you as you feel your heart plummet down to the deep depths of your stomach. You turn yourself to your glass of water and watch your reflection sadly stare back at you. Sans picks up your silence, and carefully looks at you with his observant gaze. He looks at you gently, and he sees the apparent deep hurt in your eyes. He doesn't want to push you, but he wants you to know… he's still here.
"Hey… it's no big deal if you don't laugh at my jokes, y'know. It's fine, really. Everyone has their own sense of humour." He says almost desperately as he attempts to reach out a hand to you, but he pauses as your gaze wanders off into a higher realm, "Don't beat yourself up about it. C'mon, don't make that face…"
"Sans…" you begin as your voice softens to a whisper. Sans has to shuffle a little closer to you in order to hear you more clearly. Then, the atmosphere around the both of you draws to a still, as if the chattering all around the room becomes muffled background noise, and the world melts away until there's only you and him sitting alone at the bar. And slowly, your far-off gaze lifts to his, and his sockets widens as he takes a slow intake of breath, "…why haven't you asked me… about my past?"
Sans blinks at you, as he expected something completely different from you. Knowing you, whatever you could suggest to him wouldn't be as innocent as you perceive yourself to be. There's a darkness in you that only Sans can see, there's an untapped evil within you that Sans wants to destroy, and amongst the mess of your complicated existence, there's an exciting side of you that he wants more than anything else. You exude an elegance as you carry yourself with confidence and pride in your body, your eyes are constantly exploring the world as if there's not enough information for you to take in… and there's a deeply-seated desire that you withhold, something you don't want to admit to yourself… something to do with him…
He shakes his head as he focuses back to you. And he shrugs again with his usual carefree grin.
"Who am I to pry into your past? Like you said before – what's important is right here, right now."
"Well… I suppose that's true." You say with a calm smile, and your gaze lowers back to the gentle reflection in the water, "But wouldn't it be easier for you to tell what kind of person I am from my background? Wouldn't everything be settled quicker if you judged me by my past? If I have sinned, shouldn't I atone for them sooner rather than later?"
"That's not how I see it." Sans stares at his own drink in his hands as his tone of voice also becomes vacant, as if his words of wisdom are from his own personal experiences, "Whatever you did in the past should stay in the past. There's no use in dwelling on a life that you lost. To be honest, you've been given the greatest and rarest gift that anyone can receive – you've been given a second chance at life. All you have to do now is figure out what to do with it and how to handle the cards that you've been dealt. Play the game by the rules… or don't. It's all up to you."
You become silent for a moment as you take it all in. You know that he's right. You have been given a second chance. You have to decide what you want to do with this new life. You have to shoulder the burden of freedom under the constraints of society. You're a human in a monster world. No one's going to push you towards an answer, no one's going to guide you towards some prerequisite destiny, you're no emotionless robot that follows someone else's orders… you're an independent mind. You can do whatever you want.
Sans knows this. Sans wants you to know this. You feel yourself breaking free of this blank template, and you feel your body warming to high temperatures as you feel your heart racing. And you quietly ask him one more question.
"Then, don't you ever wonder… why I don't want to find out about my past?" You ask him as your eyes never stray away from the glass of water between your palms, "Shouldn't it be within everyone's right to want to know about themselves? So don't you think it's a little odd… that I show no interest in my own background?"
Sans covers his mouth with his palms as his eyes follow the movements of your wrists as you pour the cooling water to your lips. For a moment, he's completely distracted by the accentuated bones in your fingers as you grip the glass… your knuckles have rosy highlights as the bones protrude beneath your soft skin… mirroring the way your fingers had once moved over your clit, skilfully bringing you pleasure as you reach the full extent of your climax… your beautiful hands, elegant and profound, wrapped perfectly around the cold glass as your eyes close to feel the refreshing icy water fall down your throat…
His pupils follow the slow trail of water running down your chin as he finally replies,
"Well… I'm not gonna lie, I have wondered why you don't seem to show an interest in your past." Sans says as he slowly tightens his grip around the ketchup bottle, and completely ignores the tiny spurts oozing from the nozzle, "It seems like a good place to start if you're searching for a purpose in life. So why not look to your roots? All the answers you're searching for might be right there. Maybe everything will make more sense once you learn more about where you come from. It's a plausible theory. So… why haven't you?"
You place the glass of water back down to the bar, and your fingers remain fastened around the cylinder as your eyes refuse to move away from it. Your hair falls over your face as it creates a shadow over your eyes, and your whole face is suddenly hidden as your expression is almost impossible to read. Then, your voice is deadpan, almost completely void of all emotion, as you finally reply.
"…what if I don't like the answers I find? What if I find out about my past, and I don't like what I see?" Your eyes eventually lift from the glass, and your dark expression is revealed in the softening light of the fire from the barman's form, and you turn your unyielding frown towards Sans with utter disdain in your voice, "I'd be forced to carry the burden for the rest of my life. Everything that I am now will be defined by what I did… what I used to be… don't you realise how much this absolutely terrifies me?"
And that's it. Sans can see you clearly now. You've torn down the walls of your defence as your eyes reveal the deepening sadness that you hid behind them. Your fear, your lack of self-worth and understanding of the world, everything you withheld deep within you is bare for Sans to see in the broken expression of your face. Everything that you hoped to keep within you is suddenly out there in the open. You're willing to open up and share the troubles on your back to the one person that you wanted to keep your distance from. The one who wants you, the one who wants to kill you… he's the only one I can talk to.
And Sans knows this. He's patient and understanding as he cautiously lays a caring hand over your shoulder. You slightly jump at the touch, and your eyes widen into glistening orbs as you try to fight back the overwhelming emotion building behind them. You clench your teeth as you bite at your feelings, forcing them to the back of your throat as you look into the depths of Sans' blackened voids. And he sympathetically curls his mouth into his usual carefree smile, reserved only for you, as he softly comforts you,
"Don't let the past define who you are. Focus on where you are now. You're amongst creatures who will come to care for you if you let them, you're in a world where unconditional love is given by the handful, and only you will have the power to take control of your life. Always remember this. It's your life, no one else's. No one can tell you how to live it, not even me. It's your decision to be plagued with the errors of your past, as it's also your decision to live peacefully with the friends you make in the present. When it all comes down to it, it's all on you. But I'll tell you this – the latter is far less lonely."
You slowly take in everything he says, and you nod as you gradually realise that what he says reaches you on a completely new level. You quietly sniff, as if you're battling with yourself to keep from showing all your emotions, but as you let yourself enfold the feeling of comfort that his hand on your shoulder brings, you close your eyes and sigh with a small smile on your reddened face. You appreciate that he listens and understands you, he shows that he is willing to put your best interests first as you wander the path of self-discovery on you own, and he willingly lets you know that he's there for you in every sense of the word.
You place your hand over his, sliding your elongated fingers over his bony structure, and slowly sigh from the feel of his firm grasp over your shoulder. You hold him close to you, as if you don't want him to let go, and you genuinely and widely smile as the highlighted heat from your face fills the air with a pleasant warmth that is felt by the both of you. Sans smiles back as his fingers feels the temperature of your body seep into his bones.
"Thank you, Sans. I'll be honest… knowing that you're here to help me through it all makes this a whole lot easier to digest. I just hope I won't be a nuisance to you…"
"Oh, don't… if I ever thought that, do you think I'd ever be willing to take the responsibility of looking out for you? No, I promised to look out for you, not just for the sake of the underground, but for your sake as well. I want to make sure that you find your own happiness in life. Because, believe it or not… I kinda see pieces of myself in you…"
Your interest heightens all the more as he leaves it on that unusual note. You suddenly let go of his grip on your shoulder, and you lean closer to him from the bar stool as your curiosity shines bright in your glistening eyes.
"Oh? And what exactly do you mean by that?"
"I mean, well… the thing is, it's a little hard to explain…" he says bashfully. He's suddenly become shy as the blue tinge of his cheeks becomes apparent all the more, and he retreats back into his stool with the ketchup bottle tight in his grasp. However, you refuse to leave it at that and you lean even closer, until your entire figure is arched towards him with your suspecting eyes gazing over his flushed composure. Sans shakes his head as he finally gives in to you,
"Alright, well, what I mean to say is… we both have a method of keeping ourselves to ourselves. It's not easy for us to… express ourselves to others, because we worry too much about how others feel. We put the well-being of the ones we love before the well-being of ourselves, because… it's a little difficult to come to terms with our past. There's so much going on right now, that whatever happened before all this becomes irrelevant. Because regardless of our scars, what happens right here and right now becomes top priority. I guess… that's how I see it. I'm just… speaking loosely, here."
You blink slowly as you understand exactly what he means. And you lean closer until your lips are breaching the boundaries that you both silently set yourselves. Your hot breath grazes against the bone of his jawbone as your heavily-lidded eyes follows the faltering curve of his smile, and his eyes dare to gaze back at you as you lean your elbow against the bar with your unkempt hair tumbling over the shape of your face. And, ever-so slowly, the barstool creaks below you as your mouth slowly shapes the words that you speak,
"I know, Sans. I don't know much, but I know exactly what you mean. And you can't even… comprehend how grateful I am for your willingness to help me. It's more than I ever could have asked for. You are living proof that monsters don't deserve being locked away underground, especially whilst humans are celebrating their free-will above your heads. And I realise I am no exception."
You draw yourself back to your stool as your hair creates that sinister shadow over your expression once more. Sans looks to you in wonder as you suddenly become quiet, and the atmosphere continues to fall into an eerie silence as the muffled chatter continues on like a flat dial tone. In the corner of his eyes, Sans spies the barman keeping an eye out for you, and he grips on to the side of the bar as you nonchalantly stroke a wayward strand of hair behind your ear. Until you lift your gaze back to his with a large smile, carrying a distant sadness faintly hidden behind your eyes as you finally admit to him,
"I fell into this world because I tried to kill myself. That's my one remaining memory I have that I can claim my own. Everything before that is one huge blur."
You say this with absolutely no emotion, and it completely floors him. Sans feels completely frozen as he finally understands the infinite despair that you hold on your shoulders, despite the confidence that you exude. He wonders if the way you act is a direct response to the feeling of loneliness you felt before the inevitable drop into the underground. He wonders how you can deal with this lone memory fragment that you hold so closely to you. And he wonders…
"Is that why you don't want to know about your past?"
You nod in a matter-of-fact manner.
"Of course. I mean, if the only vice that connects me to this world is the feeling of wanting to die, then why would I want to know the reason for feeling this way? I… I don't want to know what pushed to me stand on the edge of oblivion. I don't want to know about the life I once had… if it means that the only escape was the release of death." You almost choke on your breath as you feel the emotion fill you up once again, and the memory of yourself on the cliff of Mount Ebott threatens to haunt you the more you think back to it. Suddenly, you feel your heart steadily on the tip of your tongue as you find words quickly tumble out of your mouth, "I… I'd much rather start anew. Even if I have to live in a world where monsters live in fear of me, even if my freedom is consistently restricted… all I want is to feel happy. And, y'know, even without memories to fall back on, having friends like Papyrus and Undyne… and friends like you, Sans, I already feel so much happier. And shouldn't that count for so much?"
"That's all we hope for." Sans tells you honestly as a friendly smile creeps upon his bony lips. And you grin back as the liberating feeling of voicing all of your bound concerns suddenly dissipates from your shoulders. Sans is so understanding, and so compassionate, you almost feel your heart bursting at the seams. You've never felt this way about someone before. You already feel so strongly for Papyrus as a close friend, you feel appreciative of someone so strong like Undyne, and you already feel a large connection to the underground as a whole… but to Sans… you feel something so much deeper… you can't make sense of the true depths you feel for him, but you feel so incredibly strong for him… it's difficult to put it into words…
As you look into his careful eyes, heavily-lidded as you always are, you can evidentially see the intense emotion from within them. There's a connection that rings through the both of you, and you feel it pulsate and electrify a visible spark in the air. It makes itself known the longer you look at him. In his casual smile, in his empathetic gaze, everything… simply in the way that he leans towards you with interest and compassion, you can feel that this man is… someone truly extraordinary to you.
And he can feel it just as strongly as you. He keeps hidden it to himself, but the more he leans across to you, the more he wants to know you. You wants to feel you… he wants to make you safe in his arms, he wants to make you feel secure in his world… everything that he has, he wants to share with you and make you feel welcome… as long as you're happy, that's all that matters… as long as you're loved…
Then, suddenly, a strange noise instantly rips you both apart, and the moment materialises in the hot air that lingers over your heads. You suddenly recognise the heat filling up every inch of your figure as you lean back into your bar stool, and you completely dismiss it as you pay attention to the melodic sounds suddenly hitting you all at once. And your eyes fly open as you stare at Sans with incredible interest.
"What is this? I've never heard anything like this before…" You say in wonder. You lean back against the bar as your head slightly nods in sync with the tune, and your feet tap against the floorboards along with the melody.
"I guess this is technically you're first time listening to music, huh?" Sans says amusedly as he watches your expression suddenly light up with absolute wonderment, "You're pretty lucky. The jukebox at Grillby's rarely ever works. Better listen up and take advantage of it while you can. After all, music is considered to be the universal language. It doesn't matter if you're human or monster, anyone in the world can enjoy music. And, from the looks of you, it seems like you agree…"
You silently agree as the rhythm of the music is taking you hostage. Your body is suddenly becoming a slave to the rhythmic sensations shooting through every part of you. The sound is hypnotic, sending delicious thrills up and down your spine as your feet are compelled to tap along to the sound. You bite down on your bottom lip as you let yourself submit to the music carrying you along. You feel your hands lifting themselves through your hair as you feel the sounds dragging you along to a whole new world, transporting you to a realm you've never reached before. And Sans watches with absolute fascination as you become so submissive by the rhythmic sound of flamenco riffs and fast-paced guitars…
"I… um, I hope this isn't too forward, but… I kinda feel like my body is moving on it's own…"
"Oh, don't worry. That's completely normal. Dancing is the right reaction to good music." Sans says with a small laugh rumbling through his skeleton, and the sight of this doesn't help you at all as you feel warmer and warmer. And your fingers claw through the unkempt strands of hair falling over your face as Sans laughs all the more, "Hey, it doesn't matter what time of the day it is. If you feel like dancing, then you should absolutely go for it. No one's gonna stop you."
"But… won't I look kinda ridiculous?" You ask as your face fills up with a brightened shade of red all the way to your hairline.
"Like I said, you have to let yourself go. Seize the moment, control your own actions in life. If you wanna dance, the only person stopping you is you."
You nod in understanding. And, slowly, you rise from your bar stool as your vacant gaze falls distantly to the sounds flowing through every single segment of your figure. Sans watches as you wander to the jukebox just by the side of him, and you bend closer to the glass encompassing the variety of records at your disposal. Out of all of them, you choose the one that sounds the most appealing…
Down In Mexico… by The Coasters…
And the instant that it plays, you feel your hipbones sway to the slow pitch of the song. The tenants of the bar watch as you give yourself away to the delicious rhythm taking over all of your senses. The melody is heavy, as if the slow drawls of your movements are controlled entirely by the gradual speed of the beat. Your mind clouds as the music takes over, and you've succumbed into the wills of a puppet as your body falls into the commands of the rhythm. The drums tell you when you move your feet, the rough tones of the lead singer guides the gentle swing of your waist as you move yourself back and forth like a slow-moving pendulum, and your wrists direct the liquid movement of your hands as they explore the curves of your body at the command of the music.
And it takes everything within Sans to keep himself cemented to the barstool.
As he watches you dance beside the jukebox, your presence becomes the life and soul of the room. The tenants watch you with interest, until a few spectators gradually come to cheer you on and dance along beside you. Sans wasn't lying when he said that music is the universal language. The only time that the monsters of the underground feel safe enough to interact with you is the moment when you give yourself away to the overwhelming powers of music. And although they dance alongside you, despite having company as you move your body to the flowing tunes, Sans notices how you stay within your own world, completely yielding to the sensual onslaught of slow-sounding music filling up the air with it's tempting presence.
And immediately, it reminds him of the time you stood in front of your full lengths mirrors. It reminds him of the time you sat beneath the showerhead as you perished beneath the aggressive stream of water raining down on your most sensitive skin. Everything about you, all the slow movements you make, the way your fingers reach along the luscious curves of your figure, the way your wrists accentuate the elongated bone beneath your untouched skin… it all brings up one distinctive thought in his mind:
You're so… fucking… attractive…
…
…
The morning speeds on until Sans is simply comfortable with staying at the bar. The bottle of ketchup remains forgotten in his hand, and his watchful gaze follows your every movement as you remain adamant on exploring every kind of music genre available to you. And the day goes by as you select through the wide variety of music at your disposal in the jukebox, and Sans only stands by as he simply enjoys laying around lazily at the bar to watch you dance. You're like his personal entertainment for the day, and you're more than happy to provide. The citizens of Snowdin wave in and out of the bar as they see you wildly let loose beside the jukebox, completely giving in to the overwhelming sensations that each tune emanates to you. If it's a slow-moving ballad, your waist swings side to side as your hands glide up and down your torso as if you've never known what it means to be deeply touched…
Then, you find a completely different song that contradicts everything you've ever heard:
Born Slippy… by Underworld…
The song is starts slow, until it gradually pumps into incredibly fast-paced and energetic rhythm, and you feel the urge to whip your hair around as if you're in the midst of a heavy metal concert. You let your hands guide your movements as your body mercilessly follows the melody.
And everyone who enters the bar watches you intently, cheering you on, inviting you to join their own insane dance routine as they themselves succumb into submissive slaves to the tunes. The day carries on like this as you simply enjoy yourself, laughing loudly at the wild movements your body makes, and the overwhelming friendliness of the locals who are brave enough to join in. It's a concert that you created for yourselves, and it's a display that Sans chooses to spectate as you become the front and centre of your own stage. You don't mind at all. You find that you've already made a name for yourself in town as the dancing nymph; completely consumed by the music taking over every inch of your body.
Music is your master. You can't claim anything as your own whilst you give yourself to the erotic sensations of the ethereal music piloting the movements of your limbs. Everyone sees it in the way you move, everyone knows it in the way you let your tongue hang out the corner of your mouth as you give away everything you are… to the sensual tune sounding out of the jukebox, claiming your body for its own… falling under the trance of the melody without a care in the world…
The sun eventually fades away from the windows, and the light from the wall-mounted lamps illuminates the room by the tiny flames within. The locals have pumped you with food and alcohol in order to keep you going, and you beg your body to keep up with the energy that the music exudes. Your breathing becomes heavy with constant movement, your muscles feel tensed from the consistent exercise, and everything within your core cries out for a break. So, finally, after hours of dancing along to the tunes that the jukebox provides, you collapse against the bar stool besides the skeleton man. He's consumed with the same amount of alcohol as you, and in synchronicity, both of your heads spin out of control and into oblivion. Your field of vision is completely blurred as you lean clumsily against the bar.
The darkness from outside spills through the windows, and the brightness of the flames from the wall-mounted lamps glows upon your sweaty skin. It takes you a moment to realise where you are before your heavy head turns toward the skeleton who collapses in a dizzy heap beside you. He drags his heavy-lidded gaze along the contours of your worn out body, and the tiny pupils in his eyes seem to twirl into dizzy spells from the mere sight of you. He silently feels the breath in his throat being drawn out as he watches the way you heavily sigh with exhaustion. He rests his weighty head against the bar as he drinks you in, following the small traces of perspiration crawl over your untouched skin, and he resists the urge to let his hungry tongue fall out of his drooling mouth.
You take one look at him before you decide indefinitely: he's drunk as hell! And in response, you struggle to carry your own intoxicated form from the bar stool and on to the floorboards beneath your unbalanced feet. With amazing effort, you slide your hands beneath his elbows as you grasp on to his arms and pull him towards you.
"Come on now. It's time to go home, love." You say as his body seems to swing from the bar stool and fall against you. It takes a few seconds before you fully realise that the ribs of his skeleton beneath the material of his clothes is pressing against yours, and you blink slowly as you come to acknowledge just how close he is from your figure. But somehow, through the haze of your intoxicated state, you let it slide as you grab hold of his bony arm and let it hang over your shoulders for support. You wave goodbye to your new friends from the bar as you head towards the door, and drag Sans' limp body out into the cold night air that prickles every inch of your skin.
The orange rays of the lamps scatter through the windows and glisten on to the heaps of snow sprinkled on to the cold hard ground beneath your feet. And you drag yourself along with the skeleton man in your firm grip by the side of you. His mouth is drooling as he slips in and out of unconsciousness, and you laugh quietly to yourself as you find that he must be a total lazy drunk. You hope that you have enough strength within you to drag him across the way and into his bed. You can tell from his exhausted expression that he's crying out for some rest.
You heave him across the town square as you squint your eyes through the darkness and your dizzying drunken spells. The underground is eerily quiet at this time of night, and the snow sparkles from the faint moonlight stuck at the far end of the sky. It's difficult to make your way around, but you can slightly make out the skeleton home in the distance. You wrap your arms around Sans' torso as you lightly shake him back to reality.
"We're almost home now. Don't worry, I'll make sure that you get to your bed alright."
He stirs through his faded thoughts as he lets himself easily fall against you, as if he's personally enjoying the feeling of your closeness to him. And with a small murmur, his voice slurs quietly, consumed with lust,
"…come to bed with me…"
You feel the tips of your ears burning brightly in response, and your grip on him tightens as your heart quickens as fast as it can go. All of your senses are completely clouded as your thoughts are now dominated by that one mumbled suggestion. There's nothing stopping you from internally scolding your temptations to take things further than you've ever known. There's no rational part of you screaming out to resist all the deeply-seated desires pushing towards the surface. There's only you and him… standing so close together in the snow, darkness draping over your figures, as the lone flaring spurts of glowing blue flames illuminates in short intervals within his eye. And you smirk as you reply with a slur,
"I know that look." You say softly as you lean closer, until your lips are inches away from his, with the stench of alcohol lingering on your breath, "What're you giving me that look for, hm?"
"I'm thinking…" he says, just as slowly and as softly as you do.
"What're you thinking about, skeleton man?" your term of endearment drawls slowly out of your mouth, and creates a crude shiver throughout his bones in response.
"I'm thinking about the way you dance…"
You speculate for a moment if your drunken state had created a brief lapse in your hearing, and you blink in heavy intervals as you slowly wonder what he means.
"The way I dance? Oh, so you… like the way I dance?"
"Mhm… I really like it…" he says dreamily as his arm around you shifts comfortably over your back. Then he settles his heavy head against your shoulder and seems to drift off as he lays against you, "…the way you move… you're so refined… you can make every little movement seem graceful and unique… I just love watching you dance…"
You feel a growing warmth clasp over your heart as he says this. His voice doesn't hide his admiration for you, and he doesn't shy away as he gradually closes his eyes to simply give in to the feel of you beside him. His praise burns a fire in your chest, and encourages you to gently shift him from your shoulder to face him towards you. As you hold his arms in your hands, as he slightly wobbles on his unsteady feet, you look at him with such determination as your voice becomes quiet, and as sultry as ever,
"Then, come dance with me, Sans. Like you said before, it doesn't matter what time of the day it is, if you feel like dancing then you should do it."
He winces in puzzlement before you slowly glide your hands over his forearms to lace your fingers between his. A small scoping tinge of blue flourishes over his face as he feels your palms tighten against his, and before he can even begin to protest, you laugh whole-heartedly as you swing him aside and step clumsily around him in a total drunken tango.
"No, no I can't… I can't dance." Sans laughs alongside you as he lets you spin him through the snow, and he tries to resist as he's suddenly tripping over his feet. He desperately grabs a tight hold of your fingers as he desperately clings to his remaining balance, and cries through his hysterical fit of laughter, "Stop, please, I-I ca… I can't… I dance like a horse!"
You instantly stop moving altogether as you stare at him in absolute astonishment.
"Like a horse?"
"Yeah. Because horses have two left feet." Sans giggles like a madman as you only narrow your eyes at him. And as your lips pout in a completely unamused manner, Sans points a finger accusingly to you, "You see? You don't laugh at my jokes."
Again, he's right. You sigh heavily as you keep your hands loosely folded around his. Your sultry thoughts rip through the intoxicated fog clouding your mind, and you pay close attention to the gentle hold he has around you. The lids of your eyes become heavier and heavier, and your skin flares into a pleasant heat as your unstable form urges you to fall closer towards him.
A small gasp is heard from his mouth as you almost collapse against him. Your head lingers close to his as your forehead almost leans against his. His double vision clears enough to make out your expression – your lips hang agape as you softly pant from being so close to him, your cheeks are brightly flushed with intense colour as he feels the heat emanating against his bones, and your eyes… your eyes are muggy with intense desire…
He refuses to move at all as you inch your hands away from his to rest against his chest. Your palms can feel his temperature seep into your skin, and your slurred thoughts wonder for a moment how he can even form a sense of heat. But you don't wonder for too long as your moistened breath grazes against the side of his blazing skull, and you whisper suggestively,
"I'm not going to laugh until you dance with me."
You feel his smile widen as his grip on your shoulders becomes incredibly loose. Then, with gradual movement, you feel his curious fingers explore the shape of your figure as he drags his bony fingertips over the contours of your form, until he rests his hands against his waist. You clench your teeth at this feeling, as if the magic that his fingers exudes creates small pleasing tingles against your skin. You think back to the moment in the shed where he simply pressed his hands against your thigh, and you remember how much his magic affected you even then. His touch is branded on your skin, and it craves more of it as your shirt dulls the feeling between the skin over your hips against his calloused palms. You want to feel him. You want him to feel you. You want to embrace every little feeling coursing through your figure as he discovers the shape of your body. And you let him know that as you shuffle forward against him. Your ribs rest against his, your breasts press against the thick material of his shirt, and your hands wrap around the back of his thin neck. You can tell he likes it from the deepening curl of his sinister smile, and the glaring glint in his glowing cyan eye.
Suddenly, he pulls you back as he picks you up and spins you around. You shout out in surprise as you're suddenly airborne, and you laugh against him as he wobbles side to side unsteadily in a poor attempt to dance with you in his arms. You press your face against the side of his skull as you try to stifle your laughter, and your arms cling around his shoulders as you desperately hold on to him for dear life. Your heartbeat races as you're thrown through the air with his arms tightly clasped around your waist, and in a complete drunken stupor, Sans feels his strength waning as he leans back and stumbles further down the town square.
Suddenly, you feel his unstable feet kick backwards until he's navigating you both to the largest pile of snow nearby. You catch a glimpse of the two mail boxes beside the skeleton homes before you feel yourself slipping away from his embrace, and you fall in a collapsed heap in the snow against the side of the house. The entire area is shrouded over with darkened shadows, but you can make out Sans' surprised expression as he leans over you in worry. You try to shake away the spells of intoxication as you find your back pressed against the side of the house, your bare legs digging into piles of snow tinging ice against your skin, and your widened eyes staring back at his. And you feel your heartbeat almost halt altogether as you realise the position you're in.
Sans has you pinned. As your hair is pushed forward, sticking to the perspiration crawling over your flushed face, your back is pressed against the wooden panels of the house with Sans leaning entirely over you. His eyes are shimmering intensely as he slowly realises that he accidentally fell on top of you with his hands pinning you against the wall by the sides of your head. His knees bury into the snow beneath you as your legs parted to give him room in front of you. And your heads are only mere inches away as your synchronised breathing grazes against each other's faces. An evident blush forms over his face as his flustered eyes dart in every other direction, as long as they're not at you, and his voice slightly shakes as he says,
"I guess dancing really is a two-step process." You don't laugh. You gaze at him until he's forced to look back at you with the same lustful intent flaring in your eyes. He feels himself slipping as you give in to the heated atmosphere enfolding the scene, and his voice becomes breathy, "I thought you said you'd laugh at my jokes if I danced with you?"
You slowly shake your head as you lift your hand to his face. Your fingers feel the flushed heat emanating from his skull, and can almost match the temperature to your own. You feel your breathing become slow and gradual as you bring yourself closer and closer to his mouth. His smile almost shakes with desire as his eyes become completely blank with dark shadows fading over his white pupils, giving away to the uncontrollable spurts of blue flames from his left eye. Neither of you say a thing after this. Something in the air audibly snaps as everything has suddenly built up to this. You completely give in to the way this feels, as he does the same. The drunken state of the both of you make this easier to digest, as you both recognise the suggestive tone lingering in the air. And finally… you both want to act on it.
Your hands gently move over to his skull, carefully holding his face to you as you bring him closer… so close, until the unkempt strands of your hair brushes over his bone… and your voice is barely a whisper as your liquid lips slowly shape your words,
"…Sans… touch me…"
Almost immediately, he feels a sharp shudder running down his spine, and he doesn't think twice before his arms bend by your sides, and he brings himself so close to the point where you can almost feel the teeth of his smile brush against your blushing cheek. Your command runs wild in his clouded mind, and he doesn't pretend that he hasn't wanted this for so long. He lets his body move on his own as he brings his slender fingers to the sharp contour of your jawline. He grazes his fingertips over the shape, and you feel almost dizzy in response. You can feel that magic he withholds within every inch of his form, and you can feel it seep into your skin by the mere touch of his hands. You rest your head softly against the palm of his hand, and you sigh at the secure feeling this brings.
However… he doesn't want to stop there.
Suddenly, through the blur of your drunken vision, you can make out the softening glow of his elongated tongue inching through the slit of his wide smile. Your breath hitches as you realise just how much you want this tongue to touch you. You brace yourself for the onslaught of delicious sensations overriding your form as you feel his fingers brush past your ear, collecting a fistful of your hair between his fingers, as he gently pulls your head to the side so that your neck is fully exposed to him. And you gasp sharply and audibly as you feel the liquid surface of his tongue draw a line over your flesh. Your teeth dig into your lip as you close your eyes, and you can feel the hunger deep within the movements he makes. He gradually drags his tongue over your skin, and you realise he's slowly taking his time with you. He wants to feel you as much as he can, for as long as you can, and the in-depth need that he's carried for as long as he's known you slowly surfaces in the stagnant movements of his tongue.
You lowly moan as you feel the sluggish trail of saliva falling over the tip of his tongue down the nape of your neck, and your hands fiercely grasp hold of his shoulders. Your fingertips dig in to his bones as his hands move from the tangled mess of your hair down towards the shape of your collarbone, and you brace yourself once again for whatever he's planning. It doesn't take you long to quickly figure out exactly what he wants as his curious fingers don't rest there. And your thighs tense up from the overwhelming pool of intense pleasure taking over you as you follow the path of his fingers, moving lower and lower down your figure as he digs his hands beneath the material of your shirt.
He pushes your collar to the side as his skilful hands flick the buttons away, and your flesh becomes all the more exposed as his intensive predatory gaze holds you in place like stone. Your eyes widen slightly as you wonder if he's really daring to go even further. But even so, you don't want him to stop. Your drunken state has allowed you to come undone, and loosen your wound up tensions as you feel like shattered pieces of your former self beneath his touch. Your eyes cry out for him to continue, you want him to take you completely, and you let him know this as you shuffle forward, until his hesitating hand is plunging deeper beneath your shirt, just short of the shape of your breasts. And his eyes, buried beneath his heavy-lids, flare with burning desire as he doesn't hesitate a second longer.
You arch your back involuntarily as you feel his divinely magical fingertips brush over your naked skin, and he slowly moves them further to lovingly hold your breasts beneath his palms. You sigh as he doesn't stop moving his hands, and your tongue falls wantonly just as his does from the thrilling sensations of his movements. He holds you like you're fragile, then he presses his bony fingertips into your sensitive skin when he wants to hear you response with a breathy sigh. From his touch alone, your body… your soul… you are his by command. He plays you like an instrument, and he knows all the right notes to play as he moves exactly how you like it. He works to make you feel exactly how he feels when he tastes your skin on his tongue. And you gasp even more sharply as you feel his fingers overcome with growing desire as he desperately digs in to you, and he claims you for his own as he bites the most receptive area of your neck with his teeth.
Oh… f-fuck…
His animalistic needs urges his fingers to push your clothes completely aside as the path of his hands brushes further down your torso. You wonder through the haze of your thoughts as he brings himself away from you for a moment to look deep into your eyes. You can see in his smile that he's enjoying every moment of this. You can see in the darkened depths of his sockets that he wants more of this. And your eyes widen all the more as you finally feel the intentions of his wandering hands at the hem of your shorts. At that moment, you feel as if your head bursts into flames from the thought alone.
But you don't reject him. Instead, you lean your head back as a greedy smile curls up the corner of your lips. You want him to know that you like this. You want him to see that despite everything that's happened so far, this is the one thing you have been desperately waiting for. All the suggestions, all the thick bouts of tension laid over the both of you has led to this. The game only gets more exciting from here. And you clench your fingers over his shoulders as you urge him to continue. He keeps a hold of your steady gaze as a devilish shadow falls over his eyes, until the curve of his corrupted grin is all that's left as you feel the button of your shorts expertly being undone with a flick of his wrist.
And almost immediately, your voice is lost to the air as you feel the blunt ends of his fingers slowly plunge into the depths of your shorts, running confidently and achingly slow over your sensitive lower lips. Everything around you is intensely hot as you feel the shuddering spells of ecstasy rip through your drunken form. You feel alive, as if you're connected to the earth by the sensual rhythm of his fingers moving circles around your sex. And he can see it clearly in your eyes as they roll back in overpowering pleasure. Every part of you comes to life as you shiver beneath his touch, and it's all the more fierce and powerful than you ever imagined it to be. You've given yourself away to him entirely as you move your hips along to the gradual movements of his fingers.
And in return, you see the overwhelming lust contorting his expression as he gazes back at you. He doesn't hide how he likes the fact that you've become so submissive beneath the simplistic touch of his hands, and shows you that he loves how responsive you are as he presses his thumb harshly against your clit. It acts as a switch as the intensive waves of pleasure pulls together deep within your core, and you feel wetter as he touches you in a familiar way. And, suddenly, as he manages to find a collective of sensitive nerves beneath his magical fingers, a quickening shock of violent lightening rings deep within your bones.
Oh, fucking yes!
These areyour only thoughts as he brings you closer and closer, higher and higher, towards the existential heights of pure ecstasy taking over every inch of your body. You feel it especially within the depths of your abdomen, building into intensive bouts of euphoria shattering every single inch of your form. It's as if your body is falling away into atoms, melting into the liquid snow beneath you. You wonder how he knows just how to touch you in the right ways, and how he knows the correct motions that brings you to the blissful paradise you reached in the shower and in front of the full length mirrors…
But you don't wonder for too long as you see the look in his eyes. He's completely unhinged as he buries his face into your hair, pressing the whole of his skeleton against yours as you wrap your arms around him to bring him closer to you. And you feel your shaken voice breathe in heavier sighs as you try your hardest to moan beneath his touch. Finally, your shocked eyes widen as your moan drawls out in shuddering bouts as you feel the hardened pressure of his cock lean against you, even as the movements of his fingers become erratic between your folds. Through the fog of his intoxication, Sans groans against your ear, and his voice sounds low and full of unrelenting desire as he begs you,
"Say my name… I wanna hear you say it…"
You're on the edge of insanity as your fingers claw over the bones of his shoulders, and you garble the sound of his name as you're pushed further and further to the absolute height of paradise.
"Sa-ahhhns~!" You drawl out your voice as you choke on a sharp gasp. You feel his low moan in response as his erection digs further against you. But he doesn't pull his hand away from your clit as his gradual movements speed up against the pulsating sensations beneath his fingers. You can feel it more intensely now, you can feel the otherworldly vibrations ringing through every muscle of your body, setting the blood running through your veins on fire, and setting your heart alight as you cling desperately on to him with the sound of his name barely escaping your lips.
"I wanna hear you call out to me, kid… 'cause when I see you like this, I wanna know that I made you feel this way… the face you're making right now… oh Christ, kid…"
He can only just withhold how much he loves to see you overcome with desire like this. He moans lowly in your ear every time you clench your muscles around his hand, he grips his teeth together as he gasps and shudders against you every time you respond deliciously to the slow movements he makes. And you aren't afraid to show him how sweet it feels every time he dares to explore the liquid shape of your sex as your hips slowly glide along to his touch. You're so close now… he's bringing you closer… higher… so much higher… fuck, oh fuck… f-fuuuuck…
Heaven. You reach the pearly gates as the intense waves of pure Heaven pulsates within your core, bringing you to the blissful paradise that clouds your drunken mind all the more as you give yourself entirely to the man who brought you there. And he watches your expression in awe. His eyes are wide and intrusive, blinking in slow intervals as he watches every second of your transportation into the overpowering world of pure paradise. He presses down against your clit as he elongates your stay, and your voice lets out an inaudible sound as you arch your form against him, your mouth hanging open as drool falls carelessly down your chin, your heavy-lids fluttering as you feel the endorphins create an explosion of unadulterated ecstasy over every part of you… you hold your breath as your body transcends it's corporeal form… and you're high…
"You're… you're no human…" Sans manages to breathe.
Finally, you very slowly come back down. You reluctantly sigh as the feeling eventually fades, and you feel as if another piece of yourself is ripped apart as he finally withdraws his fingers from beneath your shorts. You can feel him slightly trembling over you as he holds in the urge to let go. Everything between your legs becomes incredibly sensitive from the after effects of your climax, and it cries out for more. You want to help him release his pent up frustration, and you want him to feel exactly how you feel when he touches you so intently. Your heavy eyes adjusts to the darkness as you feel Sans almost hesitantly take himself away from you. The both of you don't want this to end. The both of you want to take this further… and further still as your flushed face radiates from the come down of your powerful climax.
You try to reach out your shaken hand as you long to feel him. You attempt to hold him closer to you… you want more than anything to press his skeleton against you as he releases everything he carries inside him… you want him to feel exactly how you felt when you made you cum…
But your eyes fly open in fright as a sudden voice sharply calls through the heated air,
"Sans! Human! I can hear you out there! Come inside before you catch a cold!" Papyrus impatiently shouts in fury from the doorframe.
Instantly, you feel a wash of dread take over you as he realise how you both look at that moment. Sans is draped over your entire figure, your hands are almost reaching up to him with lust flourishing into a blush over your faces, and your clothes are hanging loosely over your body as your skin is almost completely exposed to the faint moonlight hanging over you. Thankfully, Papyrus called from the doorframe, and didn't bother to round the corner of the house to see you both hidden beneath the shadows of the evening. You're completely flustered as you desperately fasten the buttons of your shorts and your shirt, and you comb the mess of your hair with your fingers as you try to breathe steadily once again. It's made difficult through the blur of your drunken state, and you wonder why Sans only shuffles back to slightly adjust the jacket hanging loosely over his shoulders with a carefree smirk plastered over his face.
My god… how is he so calm about this?
Sans steadies himself as he stumbles back to his feet, and nonchalantly holds out a hold for you to hold. You sit against the side of the house with an arched eyebrow, and the remnants of your blush remain as you clearly notice the knowing intent of his smile,
"Relax, alright? Like I said before, if you show that you're nervous, you'll only put everyone else on edge." He says as you hesitantly slide your fingers across his palm, and he quickly pulls you up from the ground with a free-spirited grin brightening his expression, "Stay by my side, and you'll be fine. I promise."
Then, you notice in the slight golden light spilling through the windows of the skeleton home that the remaining blue-tinged blush formed over his face is still lightly lingering as your fingers slowly pull apart from his hand. You resist the urge to smirk as you find that he's definitely just as affected as you, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.
Sans leads you to the door of the house and confidentially strolls inside as if the drunken spells wasn't taking command of his movements at all. But you can tell in the slight unsteady steps he makes that he's fighting everything he has within him to reveal just how loose he really is. You stifle a small laugh as you drag your heavy form against the doorframe.
"Have you two been out all day drinking at Grillby's?" Papyrus calls irritably from the kitchen, and Sans only shrugs in return as he comes to stand beside him. Papyrus folds his arms in a huff as he turns away from him, "You should have let me know you'd be home late. I was starting to worry that I might not get my bedtime story tonight."
"Sorry, Paps. Our new pal wanted to teach me how to dance." He smirks as he quickly looks back at you with a quick wink. You can only blush back as you fall against the arm of the sofa beside you.
"Sans, since when has a lazy bones like you ever been interested in dancing?"
"I've always wanted to learn, but I had no body to dance with."
Papyrus lets out an elongated sigh of exasperation as he storms past Sans in an extended sulk. Sans almost snorts as he laughs at his own genius joke, and quickly turns towards you to catch a glimpse of your reaction. But his smile soon falters away as he immediately notices how you had finally given into exhaustion as you collapsed against the surface of the sofa. Papyrus slams the door of his bedroom shut as he barricades himself away from anymore of Sans' puns, and leaves him completely alone with you in the lounge. He remains completely obliterated to the sight of your lethargic form laying in a defeated heap across the pillows.
Sans steps unsteadily through to the lounge as he leans against the wall, and watches you silently from across the room as he crosses his arms. You're breathing soundly now as your hair spans over the pillows in an unkempt mess around your face. A small trail of drool falls from your plump lips, and your hands fall almost lifelessly over the pillows as your drunken state pulls you deeper into unconsciousness. You're gone from reality, and you're drifting into the world of dreams as a small smile curls your lips as the remaining thrill of your climax licks at your innards in your sleep.
Sans glances at his own hands. Somehow, they feel empty. The heat of your skin lingers over his fingers as he slowly blinks through the haze of his intoxication, and he quickly picks up on your scent remaining prominent over his bones. A sharp shudder rings through his skeleton as he remembers how intense that single moment felt to him when he could finally feel you beneath his digits, and he remembers exactly how much he wanted to continue… to feel every part of you… with every part of him…
He pushes himself from the wall as his heavy head leads him up the stairway towards his room. And he passes you one final side-glance from the balcony before he disappears into the sanctuary of his bedroom with the crystal clear image of your face twisted with ethereal pleasure cemented in his mind for the rest of the night.
And you sleep with a satisfied sigh upon your pouted lips as you refuse to move away from the sofa. Your skin still feels so sensitive to touch, your temperature still feels incredibly high from the intensive climax encompassing your figure, and your neck still burns from the accentuated caress of his tongue branded over your neck. And you can still feel the warm liquid of his saliva draw an incredible sensual trail over your fiery skin as your dreams carry you away from the waking world.
Even through the clouded mist of your drunken dreams, you can still make out the lustful gaze scorching in his eyes as he holds you in his arms.
And you smile.
…
…
…
Chapter Six End. Chapter Seven coming soon, as always…
Thank you so much again for all the amazing reviews and feedback! I appreciate every one of them! I truly do! I never fail to smile whenever I see a review pop up in my emails. So I hope you like this steamy chapter, please leave me a note to let me know what you thought of it, and I'll see you all again real soon~!