This very well may be the steamiest oneshot I've done. This one's for verbal acuity, formerly known as with love-fred. YOU ROCK! And, as promised, there's a bit of a continuation from The Most Fun and Close to the Edge. ENJOY MY LOVELIES!
I don't own Degrassi...trust me, you'd know if I did, cause I'd be working with the writers to get some of this on the show ;)
He slammed her back against the wall, trapping her wrists under his hands, her body against the sheetrock, and elated at the needy gasp she let out. "Never," Eli said, demanding a kiss from her already swollen lips, "try to taunt me again." He punctuated each word with a fierce kiss, slowly stealing away Clare's breath and will to resist him.
~~~~30 minutes earlier~~~~
"What do you think of a kidnapping?"
Eli smirked, raising an eyebrow. "I don't know, does that mean I get to do whatever I want to you, if you're my prisoner?"
She bit her lip and her eyes sparked with ideas. "That might not be such a bad idea."
He tossed his notebook to the side of his bed and grabbed Clare from her seat in his desk chair. She landed on top of him, her hips straddling his, with a gasp. "Eli!" They were supposed to be working on an idea for a joint story for English. However, due to recent events (the gum, the ice) Clare had felt bolder and Eli had felt needier.
He quirked an eyebrow, staring up at the girl on his hips. "At least buy me dinner before you take advantage of me." Clare rolled her eyes, though she got ideas.
Her gaze turned sultry as she ran her hand down his t-shirt-clad torso as she bit her lip suggestively. She watched with glee as he sucked in a breath, smirking up at her. Clare let her fingers play with the edge of the shirt before slipping underneath the cloth, pressing against his hot skin. She giggled when he gasped and pressed a kiss to his cheek, to his ear, to his neck, all the while moving her hands up, up, taking the shirt with her.
Having successfully taken his shirt off Clare explored his bare skin with fervor, ghosting her fingers over the planes of his chest, tracing the barely out-lined muscles. She felt his body react to her touches, felt the Goosebumps and the way his muscles contracted. She darted her eyes up to his from looking at her hands, loving the desire and passion in his eyes and knowing she caused that.
She pressed her lips to his chest, needing to feel it against them, needing to taste his newly exposed skin. He gasped as her tongue darted out from between her lips, swirling around on his skin. He saw the faint pink blush on her cheeks at her boldness.
His hands wound into her hair, pulling on the roots gently, guiding her lips up his body to his lips, so he could kiss her properly. Her tongue pressed against his, halting any attempts he would have made to explore her mouth.
With one final, hot kiss, she pulled back and slid off of his hips. He sat up, a bit hot and bothered and pushed his hair out of his face. "Where are you going?"
She turned to him. "I need to get home…mom's cooking."
Eli shook his head and stood up from the bed, walking towards Clare and grabbing her face in his hands, turning her to face him. "You're not leaving like that."
He kissed her harshly and slammed her against the wall.
"Eli," she gasped in between deadly kisses.
He pressed against her tighter, his need to feel her skin against his clouding his judgment. He caught both of her wrists in his left hand and fondled the hem of her shirt with his right. Her kisses had become submissive, as if she'd already decided she was going to go farther with him that night than she had ever been before.
He lifted her shirt off easily, throwing it off to the side with a huff. She gasped in air while he admired her pale white skin, her chest raising and falling with every breath she took. She felt naked, obviously, but even more so than in the sense that her shirt was on the floor. She felt like Eli was absorbing her image, committing it to memory, so that, even when she had her shirt on, she would no longer ever be able to feel fully clothed. She was scared and excited.
He smiled at her and pressed his lips to hers again, kissing away the uncertainty and dominating her body once more. His hands dropped to her hips; his lips explored new skin, skimming her collar bone, dipping between her breasts. She gasped and groaned with each new touch, each new kiss.
And she found herself begging him to touch her more. She wanted, no, needed his hands, his lips, his tongue on her, feeling and tasting and exploring every inch of exposed skin. Ever touch brought her closer to her breaking point. She was drowning in her own desire, and Eli was the light to safety. Eli could save her from the tension building inside of her, she was certain of it.
But just when she was about to take that final leap, he pulled back. His touch retreated and she lost the warmth of his body on hers. She opened her eyes to look for him and found him still standing in front of her, but his hands were behind his head. He wore a satisfied smirk on his face.
She huffed and gasped for air until her breathing was settled and simply looked at him, wondering why.
Once she'd settled down he picked up her shirt and, gently, sensually, helped her into it, making sure to brush her sides, from her chest to her hips, lightly. He watched her face change from shock to pleasure at his touch. In her ear he softly whispered, "This is what happens when you don't listen to me."
She shivered at his words. In a way they did more to her than his hands, his lips, his tongue, could ever do. "I—"
He cut her off. "And if you don't listen to me again—if you get any good ideas—there will be more punishment."
She felt him pull back. Addressing him with half-lidded eyes she inquired, "What if I like punishment?"
Naughty masochistic Clare! Wherever are your manners? Oh, right, Eli stole them, along with your heart and my-you know what, never mind.
Reviews are love!