"There you are," I say sweetly as I enter the bedroom.
"Come here," he's standing at the far end of the room next to the window with this forearms on top of his head. He usually stands this way when he's pondering something. I wonder if he's deciding if he should leave the blinds open or close them. Because right now, if he were to fuck me, the whole city would see. His t-shirt raises and his jeans are slung low so I can see the faint trail of hair that disappears into his button-fly. I adore that soft trail of hair. I want to lick it.
I approach him and stand right in front of him. He's going to kiss me now, I can feel it. He cocks his head to the side and winks at me. He's incredibly flirtatious, but fully in control of the situation.
He nods towards the wall. "Face the wall and put your hands up."
I narrow my eyes at him, silently asking what the hell he's talking about. His eyes grow dark with a tint of anger when I don't act immediately to his request.
"Face. The. Wall. And. Put. Your. Hands. Up."
~This is the picture prompt that inspired her
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