"You bìtch," The man spat the words as she tore her arm from his grip, fingertips tightening threateningly. "Just wait and you'll see me there—in fact, you'll see me far sooner than you think. You're still mine,"
Jasper didn't feelanythingto the new promise—the promise the pair would be back in the courtroom soon, speaking of a man half the girl's flesh. He had thought he'd feel at least a twinge of angst to the idea... but suddenly, he felt it would be nothing close to even an effort if the girl was in it with him.
With a bottle in one hand and a glass in the other, Genevieve sighed.The Smith's household was not normally loud, they pref
The man smiled in satisfaction at the sight, stepping up onto the sidewalk before his head snapped up at the sound of shoes hitting the pavement, splashing in the rain.
She followed him into the bathroom once more, letting him seat her on top of the counter. He had gripped her waist softly as he lifted her up (something that seemed so unnecessary, but something she'd like to do anything but debate), and she instantly began to swing her legs, watching as he dug through the cabinet underneath. He busied his glance away from the button of his button up she wore that threatened to come undone from her bust, her nipples peaking through, most likely from the cold of her wet hair that had begun to dry in neat, perfect curls he would have sworn were styled.
The moon had swung around the horizon, and the rain continued to hit the earth in a heavy pace that could be heard on the roofing of Jasper's house. The droplets of water were almost invisible from the condensation of his bedroom windows, created with a thick glaze on the glass mainly from the heavy breathing of the two. Though they had long settled with limbs entwined and breaths matched, she felt something she had not yet felt before, she could not help but stop and realise how utterly odd it was to feel this content, in bed, with a stranger after having shared such an intimate connection in the face of one of the simplest connections; mere kissing.
"What?" Genevieve asked silently, clutching her arms even closer to her chest in the dark of the room as her mother laughed in response, lacing her fingers together and setting them on her knees. She was acalculating bítch, that was for sure. She'd strike with the precision, venom and irony of a snake—the very scales prominent on her rather dry shins."Well, come on. It's not like you would be off reading silently in a corner, you're a troubled skànk, at best." A smile broke on
The sun was only just beginning to rise over the steady line of houses when Jasper was snatched away from his slumber, sitting up in his bed as the sheets fell to his hips, the pillow beside him dishevelled and misplaced as his eyes dragged over the ghost of Genevieve's presence. The only remaining detail of her left were the sheet marks printed into his arms from where he had wrapped his arms around her, the sheets bundled in his fists and his lips against her skin.
Genevieve reached up and touched her silky blonde hair that she had ran a brush through just minutes ago... and couldpromisethere was no trace of male bodily liquids, though a hard blush still coated her cheeks like spilled scarlet paint on an ivory canvas and she pushed her chair away from the table, following her mother's tracks as she made her own way up the staircase and back towards her room. She made a point to slam her door behind herself as she went, triumphant and child like.
Jasper didn't feelanythingto the new promise—the promise the pair would be back in the courtroom soon, speaking of a man half the girl's flesh. He had thought he'd feel at least a twinge of angst to the idea... but suddenly, he felt it would be nothing close to even an effort if the girl was in it with him.
"Youbìtch," The man spat the words as she tore her arm from his grip, fingertips tightening threateningly. "Just wait and you'll see me there—in fact, you'll see me far sooner than you think. You're still mine,"
Ambiguous. It was something ambiguous.The act of holding someone's eyes, connecting Irises shattered and bottomless. The act of eye contact. The act of something so v
Genevieve sighed the words, her hands clutching his, nails delicately biting the skin of his knuckles. She raised her hips from the mattress to meet his. He lowered his lips to the skin of her neck as his lengths became steady, her legs holding the man against her.He groaned against her skin as he moved between her thighs, finally lifting his lips to her own once more. Her thin moans failed to slow - lips moving against his with an unusual chorus of gasps and pleasured whimpers.
There was something oddly subtle about the way sunlight of a youth fell against the ivory skin of a familiar girl. Her frame had become kin of the sheets, Jasper's hand kin of her skin. She writhed and gasped in the light of morning, lips parted by a wide girth of breath, eyebrows knitted and fingers clasping on the dishevelled, crumpled linen of the bedding beneath her.The man lay above her, watching gasping breaths tumble from between her collarbones and through her lips as he offered her sweet, small smiles.
The man smiled with her words, hands lifting affectionately to the frame of Genevieve's face, marked by her ears. Their eyes remained fixed on one another's comfortably, breaths warm together. "You're somehow hexing, kitten,"Her heart stammered in her chest as if it were to be fumbling, stuttering at a loss of words; a loss of breath and inner balance, tipped by a shy affection as his words played with the spoiling of her heart. "I like that one,"
"Have you done your last task?""Yes,""-And how did that go?"Genevieve inhaled deeply, one leg crossing over the other, eyes fixing to the familiar, older, worn-looking man
"Okay, so; you have to work and I have to meet up with a friend to catch up on school—what time of the day does that leave us to have a little playtime?" Genevieve's question was sweet as she rolled to her other side, eyes meeting the may who lay behind her moments before, now in front.He smiled softly as she settled before him, a soft and innocent brow quirked with the tone of the question, her hands tucking around the lip of the duvet against them. Her eyes held his without fear, her gaze strong yet vulnerable and giving in a sense the man could not place.
The man's hands moved to beneath the hair at the back of her head, fingers brushing a raised scar beneath in a way strangely prudent."If the phone or doorbell rings, we're ignoring it," His eyes held hers with a sense of content, a gentle smile staining the shadows of his own lips."Can you carry me?" the girl whispered the words after a long moment, laughing giddily as the man sl