Sexchange ● JJK

• 15 • repairing: work in progress

"Is it her? You want her? Does that tiny, blue dress she's wearing attract you? Her pushed-up breasts and cinched waist, is that why you want her? Do you wanna fuck her hard-"

His tingling anger lost control, icy face hot with an agonizingly cruel stare. Lips buttery soft, eyes shadowing every emotion he's feeling but they couldn't cover up that burning, swimming lust in them. Amorous torture for her body. Jaw set in leashed dominance, penetrative command held in his expression. Trying so hard not to break, hold back from his dirty, filthy instincts. In a flash of boiling anger, he had choked her against the wall.

Her body flailed, getting thirsty. He looked at her as if he wanted to ravage her, demolish every bit of softness she could give him but he was content with gripping her throat for now. The warm, sensual fingers dug deeper, her jugular pushed up as his hold tightened on her. Air fluttering slow. Touch shivery and condescending. What irked him more was despite being under the grinding force of his capture, she managed to look just as delicious and irresistible as ever. So innocent and pleasing. Puppy eyes making his fingers, stomach and knees loosen with weakness in their captivity. Her eyes were spiked with a nasty wanting, from his body which was already opening up to her against his wishes.

"Fucking shut up," he growled, squishing her body into the wall as he pasted his on it. His belt dug into her stomach, abs brushed past her shivering baby body. Boobs smushed up in between, his rough, slow breath tickled against the fragile skin of her neck. Shudders pass down, leaving waves of leisurely covetousness behind. Her jealousy was audible. Visible. Perceivable. Even from the way she possessively gripped his leather jacket, he could understand how much she wanted him. Would give into him any way he wanted, be ready for his commands. She'd be a little cute( kinky) whore with a sloppy cunt, always welcoming him with her melodious, mermaid voice and sexy, satiny flesh served ready for him. She just couldn't imagine or understand how hungry he was, for her specifically. If she just spited him a little more, she was in for a calamity. A calamity named him.

"No! I won't! Is she the type you desire? Rich and beautiful?" Her naive eyes were heavily glimmering with jealousy and doubt. Anger and insecurity. Beautiful jealousy, oh, how difficult for him to hold on to the attacking demons. She had no idea how fucking gorgeous she looked even like this, no doubt, she'd drive him ruthless if under him. His head was spinning. If it was as easy as it looked, he'd be fucking her straight and hard on the bar table before them. Pinning her tasty body down, splitting her chocolate legs apart and damaging her snug, warm pussy with harsh, strong thrusts. Not stopping for even a second with her mewing and crying under him. The self-control, the thing which was delaying the gratification of his pulsating, hungry cock, was being punctured repeatedly as her plush, pink lips quivered under his hold. Not just because of his hold, they quivered as they wanted to cry. They wanted him so bad. Wanted his lips. To kiss her forlorn lips, breathless and broken. Make the untouched plumpiness bleed with all the rage he caged in himself. But things were easier thought than done, in his case.

"I desire nothing." His fingers pressed her harder into the wall and she felt the air decreasing by the minute. A tear slid down her shimmering eyes. Compassionless shards left her devastated, she hissed as his warm fingers touched the cold part of her next it hadn't until now.

"You do. The way you need me tells me you desire me."

"Then, foolish girl, why were you asking me if I desire her?" His temper was having a tough time bearing her misbehaviours.

She didn't say anything, only her breath hastened with erotic craving. Her head was edging towards delusions, she couldn't bare it. She wanted him, she wanted him to want her back, she wanted him to kiss her like he always did. Strong, rough, rowdy and harsh. Filled with possessiveness and anger. Everything he had to offer. His lips were nearby, through her crystal vision, she could feel their heat, smoky breath. The shape. His smell of cigarettes, earthly soil, books and pages. Ripe and contrasting. He was so brawny for smelling of earth, her blush burned against her cheeks. The water in her eyes was so adorable, his eyes couldn't tear themselves apart from the enticing, shattering view. Eyelids batted delicately as she reached out for him, failing every time. Filled with so much sorrowful innocence and vulgar imaginations. If he let go of his hold on her, she'd nose her button nose into his cheek, cry and beg him to take her. Love her. He knew he'll end up crumbling down to sand.