Under His Spell


United States
33° 44' 13.9848" N, 117° 48' 48.8088" W

"I fucking hate you," I giggled as he pulled me onto his lap after saying some insulting thing to me. Even though it was an insult, I couldn't help but smile and laugh; that's just the kind of power he had over me.

"No, you don't," he said, smiling in his half arrogant, half genuine way.

I loved the position I was in. Straddled on his lap, I had a perfect view of all his amazing features and flaws. His messy hair- looked kind of like sex hair even though we've never, ya know- each strand was just so perfectly aligned, my heart skipped a little beat.

 I moved my eyes down to his lips. Gosh, they were so luscious and kissable, but dare I make an attempt to greet his with mine? I knew that behind those gorgeous lips were two almost perfect rows of pearly white teeth. One rebellious tooth on the bottom row was still crooked even after three years of battling with braces, but that flaw just made him all the more glorious.

I kept going down. His chest: I could feel his abs, hard, through his loose T-shirt. When I rested my hands on the cloth of his shoulders, I could see his breath start to quicken. I don’t know why he started breathing so fast. Maybe he felt my eyes analyzing his body, or maybe he wanted me as much as I wanted him, possibly even more. The part of his body that I wanted to look at the most was covered by the lower half of my own body. I couldn’t see the obvious bulge in his pants, but I could damn sure feel it. All I did was sit on his lap, I don’t know why he was so turned on. But I took it for what it was.

Anyway, I forced my eyes to make their way back to his face, this time locking with his eyes. So big. So brown. So transparent. I felt as though he was looking straight into my soul, reading and knowing my every thought before I even knew them myself.

I couldn’t take it; I didn’t want to feel so vulnerable. So I broke eye contact, broke the moment, and looked down, removing my hands from his shoulders and putting them on my thighs. He then put his fingers on my chin and forced me to make eye contact with him once more. The movement was so fast it caught me off guard.

“No,” was all he said.

My heart literally started beating a mile a minute as I stared into those knowing brown eyes which haunt me at night because they can’t be the last thing I see before I fall asleep at night. He knew I didn’t like this; he knew I didn’t like it when he glared at me and took in my face and body with his greedy eyes. But still, somehow, I was under his spell.

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