4:36am "I hate that dress." Mac stated angrily, as she leaned on the bed. She had loved it, then it had become bothering, and now she couldn't stand it. "Stupid dress..." Dick grinned. "Why ?" She shrugged. "I don't know. I can't sit right, I can't move right..."
He let his eyes travel her body, a resolution downing in him. "Suits you, though." Before she could even blush or thank him, he reached out and traced the curve of her waist with the tips of his fingers. She froze, eyes wide. What's going on ?
He trailed down to the hem of he dress, caressing a short length of skin, it was so slow, soft and ticklish, it was almost unbearable, but she couldn't move. She was just watching him, baffled.
He went up again, the hem of her dress itching up a bit as he touched it on his way up her waist. She peeked at him. He didn't have that devilish grin anymore, nor his funny/lusty expression. He looked like he was focused, needless to say on what. He seemed almost peaceful.
On her waist, he places his complete, large hand. His palm on the seam of the dress. He breath caught slightly. She didn't try to talk, she didn't know what to say, protest or ask for more -her body screaming for more, she settled for waiting, sure that it was coming-, and she knew she wasn't able to get a word out.
His hand went up again, his thumb grazing slightly the curve of her breast. He touched her skin again when he was up to the shoulder, he squeezes it gently, and it felt like whole massage. "What... are you doing ?" she breathed out.
"No freaking idea." his voice came out kinda hoarse, and she was happy she didn't meet his eyes when she saw him lick his lips. Her body was tense, not because she didn't like what was going on, but because she didn't want to like it and was fighting the urge to give in with her last strength. "What aren't you doing ?" he uttered.
She bit her lip. She wasn't running. She wasn't cooperating. She wasn't doing a lot of things, facing the impossibility of picking one. He went on, and he grazed her soft neck skin, she felt like he was torturing her. The best torture ever. It was around that second she realized that, though she had thought of what kind of a feeling it could be, she had never felt it. She knew it was bad, but curiosity was starting to take over her fear and her desire over the 'that's so wrong' feeling.
He grazed her jawline, and she sighed, her eyes fluttering shut for a slip second, before she could help it. When she opened them again, she met his. His hand had reached her hair and was sliding in it, nothing could feel sexier for her. At the second she met his eyes, glassy and dark, she knew she was lost.
That's when she heard Veronica's laughter.