Z A R A
I'm silent, staring at the wall behind him because I can't say the same, I can't bring myself to say I missed him because truth be told, I don't think I missed him. Or maybe I can't bring myself to say it because I did miss him and that's absolutely repulsive.
His unoccupied hand runs up and down my leg, grazing against the sheer fabric of my tights. Goosebumps rise on my skin, my heart beating faster with his touch. "These look sexy on you," he whispers roughly into my ear.
"I want to rip them off and fuck you," his breathing is uneven as he grips my thigh.
"Is that your fetish?" I raise a brow. "Making people wear tights so you can rip them off?"
"And what if it is?" He chuckles.
"I mean, I wasn't expecting that. It's very... mundane for someone like you," I think out loud. "Oh? And why do you think that?" He raises a brow.
