You'Re Still My Queen-Chapter Three
Title: You're Still My Queen
Rating: PG/NC-17
Disclaimer: This still never happened, I have yet to actually meet any of this people, and I PROMISE I don't own them. I would share if I did.
Summary: Ville knew Bam loved him. The roses proved it.
Bam grinned as he crossed the room. He crawled into my bed and immediately straddled me. His lips were on my face, tasting me, remembering the feel of my skin. I laid back and luxuriated in the feeling of being loved so well.
My fingertips trailed up and down his back on either side of his spine, and he arched into my touch. I smirked, somehow knowing that I was the only one able to provoke such a reaction from him.
I alone had that magic in my body. I alone was the one responsible for that wild, lusty look in his eye. He was mine, all mine, because I was the one who had such power over him.
Men cannot resist such power in a person.
“Ville,” he whispered against my skin. I smiled and squirmed. His goatee tickled a bit as he pressed kisses up and down my throat, suckling gently just below my jaw.
I usually did not allow my customers to mark me in a way that could not be covered with clothes. It just didn’t look good when I went walking out on the street to do my shopping or run my errands.
It was like I could feel people staring at me, could feel their eyes zeroing in on these tiny earned imperfections. I swore I could hear the wheels turning in their brains, swore that I could feel the things add up in their brains.
The conclusion was always the same.
What a whore.
I refused to have people think I was something so cheap. But I never did mind when Bam did this to me. I longed for it, ached for it, so that I would have some lasting imprint of him after he had left my arms, my bed, and my apartment. Something to brush my fingers against on nights when I was alone, nights when the other half of my bed was taken up with a snoring man. Something to touch when I was in the mirror, making myself acceptable to the world outside.
“Bam,” I whimpered as he sucked harder, scraped the tender flesh with his teeth. Oh God, how did he always know how to wind me up? What was it about him that seemed to remember every little thing that turned me on?
“My pretty queen.” The fingers of one hand touched the diamond necklace. Truth be told, I’d only taken it off to bathe since he’d given it to me. There had been a few occasions that I hadn’t been able to wear it. It was didn’t go with my outfit, was too visible even if I tucked it beneath my shirt. Things like that.
A strange habit had developed since he’d given it to me. My fingers would always reach for it in moments of anxiety or doubt. I guess it was like he had given me another mark, something perhaps a bit more permanent.
“Oh Bam!” I breathed as his fingers ghosted down my ribs, rubbing almost impatiently at the waistband of my pants. I want nothing more than for him to reach for the button, to undo it, to slide down the zipper and relieve me of the garment.
Our kisses continue, grow more heated. After a few minutes, when the tightening of my jeans has become too much, he lifts his head.
“You know we’ve got a very early flight tomorrow.”
“I don’t care,” I mumble, eager already for more of him.
“I care. There’s no way I’m hauling around a cranky bundle of you through the airport.” He gives me a quick peck before slipping off of me and cuddling close.
“But… But...” I stammer.
“Hush,” he rubs my chest. “Go to sleep, darling.”
I sigh and close my eyes. Perhaps there will be some sleep in this night, though I know any dreams I have will be filled with him.
Rating: PG/NC-17
Disclaimer: This still never happened, I have yet to actually meet any of this people, and I PROMISE I don't own them. I would share if I did.
Summary: Ville knew Bam loved him. The roses proved it.
Bam grinned as he crossed the room. He crawled into my bed and immediately straddled me. His lips were on my face, tasting me, remembering the feel of my skin. I laid back and luxuriated in the feeling of being loved so well.
My fingertips trailed up and down his back on either side of his spine, and he arched into my touch. I smirked, somehow knowing that I was the only one able to provoke such a reaction from him.
I alone had that magic in my body. I alone was the one responsible for that wild, lusty look in his eye. He was mine, all mine, because I was the one who had such power over him.
Men cannot resist such power in a person.
“Ville,” he whispered against my skin. I smiled and squirmed. His goatee tickled a bit as he pressed kisses up and down my throat, suckling gently just below my jaw.
I usually did not allow my customers to mark me in a way that could not be covered with clothes. It just didn’t look good when I went walking out on the street to do my shopping or run my errands.
It was like I could feel people staring at me, could feel their eyes zeroing in on these tiny earned imperfections. I swore I could hear the wheels turning in their brains, swore that I could feel the things add up in their brains.
The conclusion was always the same.
What a whore.
I refused to have people think I was something so cheap. But I never did mind when Bam did this to me. I longed for it, ached for it, so that I would have some lasting imprint of him after he had left my arms, my bed, and my apartment. Something to brush my fingers against on nights when I was alone, nights when the other half of my bed was taken up with a snoring man. Something to touch when I was in the mirror, making myself acceptable to the world outside.
“Bam,” I whimpered as he sucked harder, scraped the tender flesh with his teeth. Oh God, how did he always know how to wind me up? What was it about him that seemed to remember every little thing that turned me on?
“My pretty queen.” The fingers of one hand touched the diamond necklace. Truth be told, I’d only taken it off to bathe since he’d given it to me. There had been a few occasions that I hadn’t been able to wear it. It was didn’t go with my outfit, was too visible even if I tucked it beneath my shirt. Things like that.
A strange habit had developed since he’d given it to me. My fingers would always reach for it in moments of anxiety or doubt. I guess it was like he had given me another mark, something perhaps a bit more permanent.
“Oh Bam!” I breathed as his fingers ghosted down my ribs, rubbing almost impatiently at the waistband of my pants. I want nothing more than for him to reach for the button, to undo it, to slide down the zipper and relieve me of the garment.
Our kisses continue, grow more heated. After a few minutes, when the tightening of my jeans has become too much, he lifts his head.
“You know we’ve got a very early flight tomorrow.”
“I don’t care,” I mumble, eager already for more of him.
“I care. There’s no way I’m hauling around a cranky bundle of you through the airport.” He gives me a quick peck before slipping off of me and cuddling close.
“But… But...” I stammer.
“Hush,” he rubs my chest. “Go to sleep, darling.”
I sigh and close my eyes. Perhaps there will be some sleep in this night, though I know any dreams I have will be filled with him.