You Want Me
Don't you?

Wants 015
I want you to feel the rage of jealousy. 

The countryside is a peaceful, chilling place. It was quiet, especially in the evening. The air was cooler than it was in the city, it was considerably relaxing too. She had a schedule that she had made especially for the four days they'll be spending here. She had everything planned out, everything! But he decided to faint on her on the very first day. He fell, passed out, and was lying flat for the entire day. He was supposed to lie flat for the entire day... 

So how did they end up like this again? 

To be honest, she wasn't sure of what happened along the lines. She was just trying to help, to prevent him from fainting again. Who knew that could lead to something as unexpected as this? She couldn't breathe, his weight was pressing her flat on the ground. She couldn't speak, her lips were sealed tight. She couldn't move either, she was trapped in his arms like a petite mannequin.

What are they doing? She was trying to think rationally, to find a way to push him out of the way before that bloody spider lands on his back. She can see it dropping, she can see the evil grinning behind his back. Who cares about his lips that were pressed on hers? She had a life to hastle to save here.

She furrowed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck. She noticed his brows kneaded. She heard rustles from her left. His fingers were curled, dug deep into the futon. Cute. She smirked and pulled him closer. His eyes were glaring, his hands began to push away. But this time, she didn't allow it. She'll keep him here if he means to keep him from passing out on her again. She pressed further and moved, fingers clawed into his blonde locks. 

His eyes rounded in surprised. Exactly what is she doing now? This isn't how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to be surprised. She was supposed to be in shock! How did it ended up with her taking the lead in their supposedly one man walts? She wouldn't let him leave, she wouldn't let him back out from this dance at all! Her arms were holding him down, and her eyes... He held his breath when her fingers danced down the back of his neck.

She traced his frame, fingers drawn down his collarbone, moving towards his back. His back muscles are firm, considerably strong despite his thin figure. Come to think of it, his shoulders are quite wide too. She grinned and pushed his side, making him roll on the futon while she playfully hovers over him.

He was startled. He gaped at her, eyes rounded at her bold move. She was sitting on his torso, her eyes were playful, the smooth velvety allure. She bit her lips, running her fingers through her hair as she gave him a mischievous grin.

"Hey." Her voice was soft, purring. He gulped. He couldn't think. His mind was blank, mirroring his current expression as Jiae presses her hands by each side of his head. He wasn't breathing, he was sure that he wasn't when he struggled to take in a deep breath. Her face was close, her lips were close.

"Wait, Jiae-" He couldn't speak, she didn't allow him to. Her body was pressed against his, careful glides teaasing him as she nibbles his flesh. His body was numb, his fingers trembled tight when she traces her fingers down his chest. She broke the touch, and he took the chance to breathe.

"Mark." She called, fingers danced across his forehead. He was dropping cold sweat. That, he was aware of. She giggled lightly, eyes formed curves as she flicked his forehead. "You're so nervous. How old are you? Five?" She teased, pushing herself up again.  

He bit his lips, chewing tight as he tries to hold himself back. The throbbing pain behind his head was long forgotten, all that's left was the bursting excitement from her feather light touch. She dived next, sealed him tight as she pulls her hands back to his hair.

The trails burn. She smirked, nibbled... She bit, drawing a clear stand of dominance over him. This is a flaming battle. He was slowly getting competitive, she was too. The tension was strong, growing, heating up their burning souls as they move. Her hand wondered, laced down his abdomen, dancing along the beat of their pounding hearts. It's hot, it's addicting, it's the toxin that drugged them in this euphoria.

His self-control was long broken, torn down like a crumpled wall. He pushed himself up, arms hung loose by her waist, hand tugged by the hem of her shirt. God damned her for wearing pants today. He cursed inwardly and caught her jeans. Aggressively, he thrown her back to the next futon. Her eyes widened and yelped at the sudden impact. He crawled to her, panting as he took a moment to look at her face.

She was panting, but not breathless. She was flustered, but not embarrassed. 

"Oh, you're acting like a real man now." She grinned, patted his shoulder, though her eyes seemed to be looking at elsewhere. He frowned. He knew he should be questioning something else, but why is she looking elsewhere when he is right in front of her.

"When was I not a man?" His voice was stern when he took her hands. Pinning her hands above her head, he leaned in. "Should I show you how much of a man I can be?"

She giggled and wiggled her hands out of his loose grasp. Gently, she cupped his cheeks. "What does that make us then?" She asked, grinning teasingly at him. He stiffened. What does that make them? He is her employer, she was only here because he needed her to be here, to act for him. But if they were to do the deed, what does that make them? He couldn't respond, she didn't give him the chance to. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled his lips back to hers in an instance. 

Ah, it