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Description
I'm not certain what about her enchants me the most.

It could be her eyes, a mirror reflection of my own in their color, but with a host of emotions always ready to spring up into her gaze. At one moment, she looks at me with mischief latent in her playful gaze, almost daring me to smile at her sarcasm no matter how much it vexes me. They light up when they win the first skirmish of wills and draw the desired grin, as if to say, 'I knew you couldn't get mad at me.' And they're right. No matter how hard I try to resist, I play right into her taunting and issue back my own dare with the way I look at her.

Immediately, however, one victory begets another attempt at conquest. She straddles my lap as I sit in a chair and the gaze shifts, revealing another emotion winking at me from behind the playfulness. Her hand reaches forward and runs through my light brown hair which inspires another thing I love about her. Her touch. My eyes close at the sensation and I marvel over just what an effect her fingertips have upon my psyche. It doesn't matter what I was thinking two seconds prior – be it fear, longing, annoyance, or sadness – any thought melts away and gives way to inexplicable peace. She knows what a divided being I am; what thoughts wage war within my mind for being the strange anomaly that I am. But in that millisecond, I know exactly who I am.

The peace is violated by the sensation of two cool lips upon mine. I only mourn its passing for a fading moment before a pang crawls up my spine in a flash that parts my lips and demands I sink deeper into her spell. She dives into the door I open wide for her and before I know it, the embrace becomes more demanding; more passionate. This time, her plea is not for a smile or for clarity of mind, she wrestles me for possession of my soul and I give it to her without argument.

I know how she rewards me when I surrender. The terms of truce become laid out before me with the next touch of her hands.

I feel a tugging at my shirt and realize what she means to do. My chest becomes exposed with each button she undoes and the moment the fabric parts, her mouth pulls away from mine and hovers above my face with warm, lusty breaths. The hands that were once soothing are now searching, pressing into my skin and sliding from my chest to my neck. For a tense, interminable space of time we're locked into this position and I can almost hear her cry out, almost sense her whimper, almost see her start to take me when I hesitate to give myself to her. The corner of my mouth turns up in a smile as I contemplate letting the tension build, but then I decide I can do no such thing to her.

Reaching up, I slide my hand across her breast. Then, I pull her closer to me and demand the kiss resume while I work on requiting her desires.

The moan escapes her throat as the tide turns in the battle. We transcend words with that one sound, because it says everything while saying nothing at all. 'You're teasing me,' the sound declares. 'You're teasing me and I love every minute of it.' Gently and slowly, I part the buttons of her shirt this time and can almost feel her body tense and arch closer to me. When I slide the shirt from her body, her back arches even more, her breasts calling out for another touch in such a needy manner that it seems they try to brush against my hand for whatever I will offer them. Her hands leave my chest to reach behind her back and unclasp the last piece of fabric standing between skin and skin.

It's thrown to the ground unceremoniously. Then her hand grabs one of mine as if I had need of instruction and presses it against her chest greedily. I slide my palm against the tip and she pulls away from the rolling link of kisses we've been engaged in to inhale deeply through her teeth. I cup her other breast with my other hand and her body tenses again before relaxing and sinking into the gentle message that commences. Kissing her throat prompts another groan to rise upward from it and though my hands slide from their sensual exploration, she doesn't complain. Because she now knows what I mean to do and loses herself within the realm of possibility.

I take hold of her back as though I need to hold her; as though her back will arch so badly that she'll tumble from my lap. My lips press against her throat once more, but this time I continue downward, across her neck with each kiss getting hungrier than the one before it. I scarcely notice it and hardly care when I become wrapped up in the moment and by the time I reach the first breast, I'm profoundly aware of how much I'm enjoying this as well. While she's the one drawing deep breaths and digging her fingers into my shoulders, I start drinking her like wine, seeking to become intoxicated with each kiss.

This causes me to lose the upperhand. The ground I gained starts eroding underneath my feet and she knows it, too, because she slides against me deliberately, using the friction of her leg to stir me into response. I break away from the kiss, but press my face against the valley between her breasts as my hands descend from her back down to her hips. This time, I'm the one prodding her along, and the playful smile returns to her face. She whispers something to me, but I can't seem to hear it as the blood has begun rushing down below my belt.

I mutter my affection for her, believing that she possibly told me she loves me and not wishing to be stupidly silent if such was the case. She neither confirms this theory nor responds in kind, but lets her hands offer the response, sliding them down my chest in such a way that it pushes me off her and against the back of the chair I'm sitting in. She leans closely against me and one of her hands continues drifting southward, feeling the flesh of my chest before plummeting to my belt and undoing it. I remain perfectly still throughout this motion, until she unbuttons my pants and slides her hand inside the waistband, reaching down until she feels what she's done to me. I tense and suck at the air, useless though my breaths are, and fight against the sensation to bare fangs in a state of arousal.

My hands leave her hips and dig into the arms of the chair. She continues working me over skillfully with her hand until I'm forced to clutch onto her wrist and stop her before she goes too far. Swallowing hard, I become aware for the first time that my throat's become dry and my mind dizzy. It takes a moment for my head to climb down from the stratosphere, but it manages to at least descend below the clouds enough for me to open my eyes and peer at her.

The beautiful woman before me appears almost as drunk as I feel and opens her eyes to look back at me as well. Our minds buzz with a million words of nonsense that desperately tries to become thoughts, but fails in the task. I do know her gaze has turned confused – apprehensive – and I dare not leave her floundering in such a repose.

I issue the next volley of shots as my hand reaches up, to touch her face and draw her closer to me.

I kiss her hungrily, letting the fingers of one hand weave themselves into her hair while the other hand finds the folds of her skirt. I push up the fabric, tugging it free from her knees and relinquishing the tangled mess of fingers and hair to lower my other hand and push up that part of her skirt. Touching her thighs, I stroke them deliberately and slide her up my lap until her crotch rests on top of mine. She bites my lip and pulls away. The alliance is plotted without need of words and she rises to her knees just enough to give me room to slide my pants off.

She slides her leg against me, but I groan and pull away from a kiss as if to scold her. This only causes her to laugh and do it again and I grit my teeth and pinch her breast between my fingers to get her to stop. She gasps. I take hold of her waist and force her to her knees again and my playful little imp ceases her taunts; at least as far as that's concerned. Instead, she seems bent to tease me in another manner and waits until I'm looking at her to place her hands upon her neck and slide them seductively across her skin, over her breasts and down her stomach. My throat becomes dryer still as I draw in more deep breaths and she raises an eyebrow at me as if daring me.

'What are you going to do about it?' her gaze asks me.

I grab her and push her body back down onto mine, taking matters into my own hands.

This time, when I reach under her skirt, I'm not nearly as gentle with my touch. I begin sliding her underwear off and she relents, aiding me in the effort until they're down below her knees and around her ankles. She kicks them off, onto the floor, and this time I can feel her warmth slide over every inch of me, teasing me. I bite my lip and try to issue some self-restraint, but the exercise becomes increasingly difficult and I begin to wonder if I must scold her again.

However, she finally raises to her knees; and this time when her hands find me, they merely serve to guide and not to taunt. When she lowers down, her warmth surrounds me and my hands find her hips as if on auto-pilot. A charge of passionate pain rips through me, but I chastise myself to hold back; to enjoy it as she slides up and down and starts to draw hungry breaths herself. Instead, I aid the rhythm with my hands and throw my head against the back of the chair as each stroke sends a pulse from head to feet and back again. I hear her moan and begin to say my name, but still I wait, the pressure building until I fear I might leave marks in her flesh from how tightly I hold on to her.

Finally, I hear it. She pants hard and grabs my shoulders again, and the way she digs into my flesh is more than I can handle. Pain turns to release and the amount of relief that washes over me causes my tense muscles to knot first before they relax and succumb to the tidal wave of euphoria. Her heavy breaths hit my face as she pulls in close to me and I find myself wrapping my arms around her waist, slowly coming back into orbit after my visit to outer space. It takes a minute before I can open my eyes, but when I do, I see her there and can't help but to feel content.

The vision of her smile greets me with its warmth and I give in to how contagiously it radiates by smiling in return. A soft kiss finds its way onto my lips and a tongue drifts into my mouth, but the kiss is lazy; slow. Moving in a dreamy manner in time with the soft touch of her hands upon my chest. She pulls away and smothers my cheek with tender kisses before resting her head onto my shoulder with me still inside of her. When she tells me she loves me, this time I do hear it and I tell her that I love her, too.

As tempted as I am to ask her what brought that on, I merely feel her body upon mine, with that singular heartbeat we share and can't help but to be happy. I'm not certain what enchants me about her the most; but one thing is for certain, she captivates me. And I'll continue to be her willing hostage so long as fate allows.

Description
I'm not certain what about her enchants me the most.

It could be her eyes, a mirror reflection of my own in their color, but with a host of emotions always ready to spring up into her gaze. At one moment, she looks at me with mischief latent in her playful gaze, almost daring me to smile at her sarcasm no matter how much it vexes me. They light up when they win the first skirmish of wills and draw the desired grin, as if to say, 'I knew you couldn't get mad at me.' And they're right. No matter how hard I try to resist, I play right into her taunting and issue back my own dare with the way I look at her.

Immediately, however, one victory begets another attempt at conquest. She straddles my lap as I sit in a chair and the gaze shifts, revealing another emotion winking at me from behind the playfulness. Her hand reaches forward and runs through my light brown hair which inspires another thing I love about her. Her touch. My eyes close at the sensation and I marvel over just what an effect her fingertips have upon my psyche. It doesn't matter what I was thinking two seconds prior – be it fear, longing, annoyance, or sadness – any thought melts away and gives way to inexplicable peace. She knows what a divided being I am; what thoughts wage war within my mind for being the strange anomaly that I am. But in that millisecond, I know exactly who I am.

The peace is violated by the sensation of two cool lips upon mine. I only mourn its passing for a fading moment before a pang crawls up my spine in a flash that parts my lips and demands I sink deeper into her spell. She dives into the door I open wide for her and before I know it, the embrace becomes more demanding; more passionate. This time, her plea is not for a smile or for clarity of mind, she wrestles me for possession of my soul and I give it to her without argument.

I know how she rewards me when I surrender. The terms of truce become laid out before me with the next touch of her hands.

I feel a tugging at my shirt and realize what she means to do. My chest becomes exposed with each button she undoes and the moment the fabric parts, her mouth pulls away from mine and hovers above my face with warm, lusty breaths. The hands that were once soothing are now searching, pressing into my skin and sliding from my chest to my neck. For a tense, interminable space of time we're locked into this position and I can almost hear her cry out, almost sense her whimper, almost see her start to take me when I hesitate to give myself to her. The corner of my mouth turns up in a smile as I contemplate letting the tension build, but then I decide I can do no such thing to her.

Reaching up, I slide my hand across her breast. Then, I pull her closer to me and demand the kiss resume while I work on requiting her desires.

The moan escapes her throat as the tide turns in the battle. We transcend words with that one sound, because it says everything while saying nothing at all. 'You're teasing me,' the sound declares. 'You're teasing me and I love every minute of it.' Gently and slowly, I part the buttons of her shirt this time and can almost feel her body tense and arch closer to me. When I slide the shirt from her body, her back arches even more, her breasts calling out for another touch in such a needy manner that it seems they try to brush against my hand for whatever I will offer them. Her hands leave my chest to reach behind her back and unclasp the last piece of fabric standing between skin and skin.

It's thrown to the ground unceremoniously. Then her hand grabs one of mine as if I had need of instruction and presses it against her chest greedily. I slide my palm against the tip and she pulls away from the rolling link of kisses we've been engaged in to inhale deeply through her teeth. I cup her other breast with my other hand and her body tenses again before relaxing and sinking into the gentle message that commences. Kissing her throat prompts another groan to rise upward from it and though my hands slide from their sensual exploration, she doesn't complain. Because she now knows what I mean to do and loses herself within the realm of possibility.

I take hold of her back as though I need to hold her; as though her back will arch so badly that she'll tumble from my lap. My lips press against her throat once more, but this time I continue downward, across her neck with each kiss getting hungrier than the one before it. I scarcely notice it and hardly care when I become wrapped up in the moment and by the time I reach the first breast, I'm profoundly aware of how much I'm enjoying this as well. While she's the one drawing deep breaths and digging her fingers into my shoulders, I start drinking her like wine, seeking to become intoxicated with each kiss.

This causes me to lose the upperhand. The ground I gained starts eroding underneath my feet and she knows it, too, because she slides against me deliberately, using the friction of her leg to stir me into response. I break away from the kiss, but press my face against the valley between her breasts as my hands descend from her back down to her hips. This time, I'm the one prodding her along, and the playful smile returns to her face. She whispers something to me, but I can't seem to hear it as the blood has begun rushing down below my belt.

I mutter my affection for her, believing that she possibly told me she loves me and not wishing to be stupidly silent if such was the case. She neither confirms this theory nor responds in kind, but lets her hands offer the response, sliding them down my chest in such a way that it pushes me off her and against the back of the chair I'm sitting in. She leans closely against me and one of her hands continues drifting southward, feeling the flesh of my chest before plummeting to my belt and undoing it. I remain perfectly still throughout this motion, until she unbuttons my pants and slides her hand inside the waistband, reaching down until she feels what she's done to me. I tense and suck at the air, useless though my breaths are, and fight against the sensation to bare fangs in a state of arousal.

My hands leave her hips and dig into the arms of the chair. She continues working me over skillfully with her hand until I'm forced to clutch onto her wrist and stop her before she goes too far. Swallowing hard, I become aware for the first time that my throat's become dry and my mind dizzy. It takes a moment for my head to climb down from the stratosphere, but it manages to at least descend below the clouds enough for me to open my eyes and peer at her.

The beautiful woman before me appears almost as drunk as I feel and opens her eyes to look back at me as well. Our minds buzz with a million words of nonsense that desperately tries to become thoughts, but fails in the task. I do know her gaze has turned confused – apprehensive – and I dare not leave her floundering in such a repose.

I issue the next volley of shots as my hand reaches up, to touch her face and draw her closer to me.

I kiss her hungrily, letting the fingers of one hand weave themselves into her hair while the other hand finds the folds of her skirt. I push up the fabric, tugging it free from her knees and relinquishing the tangled mess of fingers and hair to lower my other hand and push up that part of her skirt. Touching her thighs, I stroke them deliberately and slide her up my lap until her crotch rests on top of mine. She bites my lip and pulls away. The alliance is plotted without need of words and she rises to her knees just enough to give me room to slide my pants off.

She slides her leg against me, but I groan and pull away from a kiss as if to scold her. This only causes her to laugh and do it again and I grit my teeth and pinch her breast between my fingers to get her to stop. She gasps. I take hold of her waist and force her to her knees again and my playful little imp ceases her taunts; at least as far as that's concerned. Instead, she seems bent to tease me in another manner and waits until I'm looking at her to place her hands upon her neck and slide them seductively across her skin, over her breasts and down her stomach. My throat becomes dryer still as I draw in more deep breaths and she raises an eyebrow at me as if daring me.

'What are you going to do about it?' her gaze asks me.

I grab her and push her body back down onto mine, taking matters into my own hands.

This time, when I reach under her skirt, I'm not nearly as gentle with my touch. I begin sliding her underwear off and she relents, aiding me in the effort until they're down below her knees and around her ankles. She kicks them off, onto the floor, and this time I can feel her warmth slide over every inch of me, teasing me. I bite my lip and try to issue some self-restraint, but the exercise becomes increasingly difficult and I begin to wonder if I must scold her again.

However, she finally raises to her knees; and this time when her hands find me, they merely serve to guide and not to taunt. When she lowers down, her warmth surrounds me and my hands find her hips as if on auto-pilot. A charge of passionate pain rips through me, but I chastise myself to hold back; to enjoy it as she slides up and down and starts to draw hungry breaths herself. Instead, I aid the rhythm with my hands and throw my head against the back of the chair as each stroke sends a pulse from head to feet and back again. I hear her moan and begin to say my name, but still I wait, the pressure building until I fear I might leave marks in her flesh from how tightly I hold on to her.

Finally, I hear it. She pants hard and grabs my shoulders again, and the way she digs into my flesh is more than I can handle. Pain turns to release and the amount of relief that washes over me causes my tense muscles to knot first before they relax and succumb to the tidal wave of euphoria. Her heavy breaths hit my face as she pulls in close to me and I find myself wrapping my arms around her waist, slowly coming back into orbit after my visit to outer space. It takes a minute before I can open my eyes, but when I do, I see her there and can't help but to feel content.

The vision of her smile greets me with its warmth and I give in to how contagiously it radiates by smiling in return. A soft kiss finds its way onto my lips and a tongue drifts into my mouth, but the kiss is lazy; slow. Moving in a dreamy manner in time with the soft touch of her hands upon my chest. She pulls away and smothers my cheek with tender kisses before resting her head onto my shoulder with me still inside of her. When she tells me she loves me, this time I do hear it and I tell her that I love her, too.

As tempted as I am to ask her what brought that on, I merely feel her body upon mine, with that singular heartbeat we share and can't help but to be happy. I'm not certain what enchants me about her the most; but one thing is for certain, she captivates me. And I'll continue to be her willing hostage so long as fate allows.