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You stop in mid-motion, with your lips no more than two or three centimetres from theirs. Your breath fans warm onto their flushed skin as they look questioningly up into your eyes. They want you to kiss them. They expect you to kiss them. It’s written all over that adorable little frown of theirs.
But you won’t just hand yourself over to them on a silver platter. You’re not that cheap. And besides, you’re certainly not going to make it that easy. You won’t allow room for them to make excuses later, to tell themself you forced them and that they hadn’t actually wanted any of it.
No.
You know your own worth.
You are far too precious for that.
If they want you they’ll have to put in the necessary effort first. It has to be their choice, made of their own free will. If they want a taste of you they’ll have to claim it by themself.
They’ll have to seal this deal with their kiss.
You see the realisation gleam in the depths of those eyes they’re watching your every move with so attentively. A hint of desperation creeps into the lines on their face. Their throat bobs as they swallow, you can feel it brush against the back of your fingers.
A smile tugs at the corner of your mouth as you withdraw the hand that had been gently lifting their chin. They’re now free to turn their head away from you or lower it, but they do no such thing. Something in your gaze seems to be holding them in place still, even after you’ve removed the caress of your fingers.
The distance between you appears to be melting away gradually. You wonder whether they’ve noticed they’re slowly closing it. If so, they’re doing a great job at not letting it show on their face.
You can’t help but sigh as their breath starts to mingle with your own. So close you’re even breathing each other now. Traces of them are in the air all around you. The scent they carry conjures an image of an afternoon walk through the forest on a warm summer day.
Their half-opened lips tremble ever so slightly against yours. You’d think them vulnerable and on the verge of surrender, if it weren’t for that glint in their eyes, the persistent defiance underneath all that need and longing. There is a glimpse of danger lurking in the shadows, a predator.
They draw a gasp from you, running the nails of their fingers down your spine. You knew they’d try something, yet somehow this catches you by surprise anyway. Your body shudders against theirs.
Pressed flush to them now, you suddenly become keenly aware this is the closest you’ve ever been to them. The heat of their body seeps into you, seemingly unhindered by the oh so thin layers of clothing separating you from one another.
They wink at you, as if to tease you one more time. Then a simple touch of their tongue along your upper lip makes the last remnants of your self-restraint crumble as well. You lean in.
And just like that you lose yet another one of these little games.
You should have known better than to underestimate them!