“The goal of getting yourself laid does not start with you touching my stomach, I feel like you should know this by now,” I joked and playfully pushed his head away from me. He climbed up next to me, his elbows on either side of my head. Those dark brown eyes stared down at me. He knew what he was doing, he knew I enjoyed the intimidation.
“How long will I have to keep doing things like this until you start loving yourself?” He gripped my stomach again and dipped his head down, giving the most gentle, butterfly-like kiss on my collar bone. “Put that down,” he whispered, tossing my phone from my hands. He gripped both of my small hands with one of his and set them above my head.
“It’s a tedious process,” I breathe almost inaudibly, trying to catch his lips with mine. His nose ran across my chest; the stubble on his chin is tickling it. His teasing makes the warmth between my legs impatient as he brings his body over mine and caresses my cheek. A tiny whimper escaped my lips with the pressure, “It… It takes time…”